Chereads / Deep Ocean Blue Eyes / Chapter 58 - Lover Boy

Chapter 58 - Lover Boy

~~Ashley's POV~~

"You suck, Ashley. You really do."

"I bet she does." A chill sourcing from the eerie whisper that just barged into my ears tripped down my whole body, tugging my heart into a jumpscare. But ironically, my reaction was bland. My hands simply clenched into fists as I mildly jolted my back harder against the wall, almost fusing with it. Ever so audibly, my heartbeat now reigned in my ears. To abate, I drew in a deep breath before cautiously opening my eyes.

The view ahead was clear, but through the corner, I caught those hazel patterns piercing through from a close distance. I scoffed internally. So now he wasn't just gonna settle for haunting my head, he was hellbent on pissing me off as well.

Without sparing him a proper glance, I wiped my face and gunned to storm off in a fury despite my crushed spirit weighing heavily on my bones, but my legs…

My. Fucking. Legs!

They defied me the second I ripped contact with the wall, wobbling me back to its support.

I gasped sharply, embarrassment stomping over me. All I craved for was to walk out gracefully to prove to not just him, but mostly my humiliating self that I could get back on my feet just fine. And without anybody's fucking assistance! Oh well.

I heard him smack his tongue, five times precisely but would not for once veer to him. I was going to ignore him until he left on his own accord. I almost forgot what a nutcase he was. However, a reminder was well served.

I felt his sturdy arm go behind me, around my waist. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I lashed while he settled my right arm around his shoulders, flatly ignoring my fuss.

"Helping the needy, of course," he remarked, his gesture drenched in sarcasm.

"Let me go!" I whined, letting my pride overtake me. I wasn't ready to be seen as a pushover who just ranted about how she would not be needing his help anymore, but here she was solely relying on it to move.

"Ouu!!" I shrilled on the impact my butt took when it clashed with the hard floor. Dude literally just "dropped" me like some object.

"Why did you do that?" shooting my blistering glare up, I barked at him with a rather serene look in his eyes, for one responsible for the ruckus.

"You asked me to." He shrugged indifferently, intensifying the fumes my eyes were oozing.

A loud pissed scoff ripped off my lips. And to think this was the same guy I rendered a heartfelt appreciation to moments ago. The same guy I felt genuinely thankful to. The same guy….

'Ahh…. Fuck!!!!' I vented inwardly. I had no one else to blame but my weak ass self!

Roving the hallway in opposite directions with my eyes, I confirmed it was all clear and could not be more grateful for the fact that the library held the least guests at this time. Acting clueless to his presence, I pressed my palms against the floor and glided my butt across, pushing myself back to the wall for support. I was a weakling but not an idiot to want to try and get up in a hurry. I knew it'd either end in me stumbling back to the floor, or his arms. The latter was even worse.

I made sure I was close enough before carefully getting on my feet with the wall's aid. I managed to take a few steps forward with my palm still glued to it, and a limp. I must have sprained my waist.

A hand to my waist, another beneath my knees, and before I could process what just happened, I was floating.

Subconsciously, I squeezed the part of his shirt on his shoulder, holding on to maintain my balance as he lifted me with sudden. "What are you doing?…" I asked in a nervous whisper, searching the hallway for people as if I didn't already know it was empty.

"I'm sure you wouldn't want me to drop you this time. Your head may not escape the hit so stay still," he told, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

I rolled my eyes in defeat, curling back into his bosom. Darting my eyes randomly, I then saw a petite lady with black hair framing her face in a bulb. Instantly, I wished the ground would open and just swallow me as she now had her palm over her lips, an obvious blush tinting her cheeks. Ironic how someone who wasn't in my shoes could be moved as much from a gesture that fueled me with unease.

Making sure our eyes met, I then darted them snobbishly, protesting in a petty way. Crystal clear she misunderstood the room and was enjoying this but I so wasn't. I wished to clamor but my back still had a slight pain lingering in it, another hit would be too much.

"Why did you bring me here?" I fired, now sitting comfortably on the bed. He brought me to the infirmary. On our way here, I itched to run my mouth but was only taking caution when I zipped it and just let him do what he wanted. Now I was in a better position, there was no need to hold back anymore. I took out the brakes in my mouth.

"Just taking responsibility," he replied casually, now looking down at me. "You got hurt because of me. So I had to bring you here."

"Hmph…" l flung my head away with a scoff. "I thought I asked you to," I muttered to his hearing with sarcasm glued to my gestures.

"I may be intoxicated with scented roses that makes me believe the whole world revolves around me…," Skeptically, I raised my eyes to him. "But I was also taught to take responsibility…" he paused, silently engaging my stare. "unlike most people," he completed. Although faint, I heard a huff sound.

"Should I page a nurse to get your back checked?" he asked, now walking around to the telephone beside the bed.

"Why do you think I need it checked? Did I complain to you?" I backfired.

"I heard a crack sound." I grimaced in shame. "Was that from a broken tile? It was fine when we left though," he added, mumbling the last part audibly.

Rolling my eyes in frustration, I exhaled softly. He was right. I think I sprained my back but was too embarrassed to admit. The way he even mentioned the "cracking sound" so casually made me wanna curl under these sheets and not come out. Until he was gone at least.

"Leave it! I'm fine," I dismissed.

"If you say so."

I was expecting another phase of squabbling but I should have known better. Why would he care to the point of trying to convince me otherwise? I bet he was only doing this sheerly to justify his conscience. If he had one, that is.

"By the way, why were you crying?"

I tilted my head in the voice's direction and saw him leaning against the window with hands settled in his pockets as usual. The light's reflection filtering through his hair from behind somehow added a glow to it; his hazel eyes however stole the spotlight, accented by the mask beneath them.

By the way, was it not choking to have a mask on? Pfft why would I care?

I turned my eyes away. "It's none of your business."

"I think I deserve something better than your snarky attitude." I was naturally compelled to veer to him once more. He always had a knack for getting under my skin but his remarks today were pretty curt and harsh. As if I was any better

"What?"

"A "thank you"?" He shrugged.

I scoffed. "Thought you were only taking responsibility."

Somehow I found myself being plagued with guilt. It was a fact he helped me. He kept helping me! Despite my coldness towards him. I was probably ashamed to accept my faults and chose to play smart. After all, he put me through this and besides, I never asked for his help to get here.

"Whatever. I still demand to know why you were wailing back there." He listed his head backward to gesture.

"Wailing"? And what?... I scoffed. "Demand"? The nerve.

"If I asked that you take of your mask, would you?" I retorted, not because I cared, but I was unwilling to back down. And besides, I wasn't speaking of his literal mask. He already had a thing for masks but would usually have them off when talking with people. This time, he left them on the whole time. Maybe I was curious after all. Just a tiny little bit.

With a brow raised darkly, he asked: "You wanna see what lays underneath the mask?" The way he sounded suggested he understood where I was coming from. But that would be my imagination. Except…

He stalked toward me and came to a halt just in front of me before crouching to my level.

Except he indeed had something to hide.

I gulped down saliva, the unease I usually felt around him suddenly erupting from nowhere. That dark aura was here again. His eyes were narrowed down to a grim stare, one that made the room suddenly feel stuffy. Where did all the heat abruptly seep from? As much as I wanted to break free from this horror, I couldn't. I was affixed, trapped in his eyes.

Low pitched, he drawled: "You wanna see just what lays beneath the mask?" With his eyes still holding fast onto mine, he reached for my hand and pulled it up slowly. "Then take it off," he completed, now holding my hand close to his ear.

I was conscious. I knew he grabbed my hand. I wasn't paralyzed, I could withdraw it immediately and slap him. I also knew I could do all of that but guess what. I could not even lift a muscle to refuse hum.

"Go on," he urged, slightly tugging my hand closer.

I blinked, finally getting the chance to pull away after a moment's silence, which I did. Nervously, I tucked my hair behind my ears, swinging my eyes in random directions to avoid a second trance.

I heard a huff before catching through the corner of my eye, his bare face. He partly unmasked, leaving one band still hanging on his right ear.

'What happened to your face?!' my inner voice yelped, awestruck. He was bruised all over. Just beneath his right undereye laid a purple patch while a pain relief patch was across his nasal bridge. He had cuts on his lips as well. His hair was somewhat combed over his forehead so its view was hindered. But now looking closely, he had a small bruise beside his brow. As if that was not enough, there was still the gauze around his left hand. Just what tussle took place on here? Forget the way I felt towards him, this was just cruel. How could someone else have bruised him this badly? Was he that weak? Was I being needlessly on edge when he could actually be a scaredy cat. Unless a bomb was thrown at him, I saw no reason to sit back and let someone do this much damage.

Impulsively raising my hand to feel his face, oddly consumed with a mixture of curiosity and pity, I came to a screeching halt when I heard the door slide open. Rattled, I swung my head in its direction with a jolt. My eyes widened, and without sparing Daniil another glance, I tried to withdraw my hand but was forced to eventually when he caught it in a steel grip.

Our eyes jammed again.

~~Daniil's POV~~

I didn't care whoever the fuck that was. The fact she tried to refrain from what she was about to do didn't sit well with me. It was the person's fault for barging in here uninvited, so why should we be the ones fretting? I however acted on a whim, but that was how I truly felt.

Having frozen the moment to my heart's content, I picked up from where it stopped, in my pace.

Still shielding my lower face with the mask hanging down on my ears, I tilted slightly to see who. This person was seething, saturated with a mixture of rage and jealousy. My eyes strolled down in apathy; his fists were clenched as well as his jaw. The depth of the writhe sitting in between his brows was alarming. The daggers he was staring could leave me dropping dead in less than a millisecond if eyes could kill.

I wondered if Ashley knew how he truly felt for her. She probably did. Because this much spite emitting his eyes stemmed from an intense desire to wipe me off Ashley's slate; it didn't come out of the blue. Crystal clear he'd been in love with her for quite a long time.

I smirked with a huff before turning my attention to Ashley and pulling the other band around my ear, masking up completely. Giving her the teasing eye, I let go before laggardly getting on my feet and retracing by two steps to give our lover boy space.

Still adhering his corrosive eyes to mine rather complacent, he stalked toward us. I slid my hands into my pockets and with slightly elevated shoulders, showed him his place. Pretty obvious he had a thing for Ashley and with his recent suspicions about me, I posed a danger. But right now, I had the upper hand. He could not say shit and risk blowing his cover in Ashley's presence. The glances we exchanged proved he quite understood this fact and that made the fumes exuding his eyes grow hotter.

This guy.

He wasn't any less interesting and I had just as much fun when teasing him as I did with Ashley.

He was the second most interesting character Chicago graced my boring life with.