"Go back home."
Azer barely voiced out those words. His restraint was wavering. Before he did something that would make her hate him, he turned around and walked away. It only took him a few steps away from her before he abruptly spun again.
The scent of blood permeated his nose.
He looked at her feet and his expression darkened. Amara followed his gaze and looked down. Only then did she notice some shards of broken glass got stuck in the edges of her worn-out slippers, grazing her feet.
She wondered how he noticed immediately, but when she remembered his grim face, she looked back and spoke.
"Oh, this is nothing. It didn't hurt at all."
The shards didn't really stab her, their sharp and jagged edges just slightly grazed her skin they only left tiny wounds as though she was grazed by sharp nails. She even took a step forward to show him that she was fine.
However, his expression didn't change. He just walked to her again, grabbed her by the armpits, and lifted her like a trophy.
"Ah!"
Amara was flabbergasted. She didn't expect him to carry her. Forget being carried rudely like a toddler throwing a tantrum to be lifted, what bothered her the most was her armpits!
What if it's damp? What if it smells? She took a bath before going to bed, but what if?
She wiggled her body like a worm trying to break free from an eagle's beak, however, Azer only glared at her with his sharp eyes, and she immediately drooped properly. He walked to the kitchen, sat her down on the table, and took her slippers away.
The poor slippers were thrown in the garbage bin in the corner.
"Wait! Why did you throw it?!" She complained, glaring back at the man towering above her. She understood that it was old and worn-out, but she was only wearing those slippers for the meantime as those were the only spare she had. The one she normally uses, she lent it to Vida.
"I'll buy you a new one," Azer simply replied and held her feet up.
She wanted to refuse him and insist, but then her head was already filled with embarrassment upon realizing her position. She was seated above the table with him between her legs, while her right foot was lifted and held by his hand, carefully inspecting her little wounds without any awareness of their awkward position.
She was wearing a nightdress, for goodness' sake! It was such a relief that the room was dark, or else her exposed legs would have been in sight. She fumbled through her slipping dress and tried to cover half of her thighs.
Azer seemed to notice her movement, and she felt his hand tightened around her ankle. Suddenly, she heard a weak sound like a growl but ignored it when Azer cleared his throat and continued to look at her foot.
"Can you even see it?" She asked, trying to make him stop. The heat of his palm was really sending shivers in her body, even though it was warm.
Azer paused for a moment. Then, he moved away and Amara was finally able to breathe properly. She should have gone back when she was told. Now she added another worry to him. He even seemed to forget the reason why she came and didn't even look perturbed at the state of his shop.
Thud!
Her shoulders jumped from the loud noise above. Someone was on the upper floor. She hastily jumped from the table and winced when her wounds got pressed to the floor.
"Now, it hurts," she mumbled to herself, curling her toes to endure to pain and hold back her groan from escaping. She bit her lips and walked as though she was treading on a thin ice, towards the garbage bin where her slippers were.
The room brightened when Azer went in again. He was holding the lamp she brought, now lit, and put it above the shelf. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw her next to the bin, stubbornly wearing the slippers again.
Amara panicked when his eyes glared at her, and out of nervousness, she shouted, "Someone's above! I heard a sound!"
Azer sighed, walked to her, and lifted her again. Before she could hide the poor slippers, they were already thrown again—this time, outside the open window of the kitchen. Even the sound of something flopping in the street outside was heard as if the footwear were smacked to the ground or the wall with much force.
"…that's vintage…" she whispered, pouting while sadly gazing at the window.
Witnessing that gloomy face, Azer fought back the urge to laugh. He shook his head at her silliness while pulling a chair.
As he was about to sit, the door burst open and the other guy, Hans, came in drenched in sweat. He panted and was ready to report but his mouth was left hanging open upon seeing a woman sitting on the table while his master loomed over her.
"…did I interrupt something?"
Amara's face flushed in red. Azer straightened his back and faced him.
"Did you catch the thief?"
"The thief?"
Azer nodded.
Hans, "Ah! Ah, yes, I caught him. I tied him and locked him up at the storage."
Azer, "Then, go alarm the authorities."
"Yes, I'm on my way," Hans looked at Amara meaningfully before turning away. A trace of a small smile lingered at the corner of his lips. The door was closed carefully and silence reigned inside again.
Only the single creak of the chair when Azer sat was heard. The noises above disappeared as well. Amara thought that it was time for her to go back, now that the thief was caught, and she already checked that nothing wrong happened to Azer.
However, she was unable to form her sentences as the latter already grabbed her ankle, and settled her foot above his palm, while the other hand held a damp cloth. He gently wiped the dust and dried speck of blood like an avid collector cleaning one of his figurines.
He was so focused on her foot that Amara almost felt jealous. But because of that, she had an opportunity to stare at him however long she wanted. The ticklish feeling on her foot was clouded by the cold sensation of the damp cloth, yet her eyes never left his face.
With such a serious look on his face, she even wondered how frail and delicate the man thought of her chubby foot. She instantly felt embarrassment and unconsciously pulled her foot an inch.
Azer lifted his head and their eyes met. His lips curled up as his eyes glint, and then he smirked at her, "Staring is rude, lady."
Amara's eyes widened. He knew she had been staring! She averted her eyes quickly, her ears reddened. Although she wanted to retort, as she remembered the many times that she caught him looking at her, her timid attitude zipped her mouth instead.
He wrapped her foot in bandages, which made her gape in disbelief.
"Isn't this too much? The wounds will heal even if you don't do this. This feels uncomfortable."
"Is that what you're just going to say after I treated you?"
Amara pulled back her foot, but Azer didn't let go. Instead, he bowed his head and planted a kiss on the instep of her foot. The thin bandages that covered her skin weren't enough to stop the shivers climbing to her neck.
She gasped upon the realization of his actions, and her body froze even before she could kick him away. But, did she even want to push him away?
His hand, from her ankle, moved to her calf as he stood without breaking their eye contact. Then, she saw his eyes move up slightly and directed to her temple. As the situation escalated suddenly, she didn't have the time to go back and wear her mask, but because it was dark, she felt relieved.
Now, there was a light shining above them, it should worry her, yet her mind was too occupied by the closing distance between them. She couldn't remember how it happened, or who pushed them away. All she knew was Azer already standing in between her legs, while his hand held one of them.
Sweat formed in her forehead. She sat firmly, with her back straight and refusing to bend over, because if she did, then she feared that her control and reason would wane, especially when the table seemed so inviting.
However, her stiff back jumped in scare after his other hand landed on her waist. She bent closer to the table, while he leaned in and whispered just an inch away from her quivering lips.
"A simple 'thank you' would have been enough, but now I don't think it would suffice."
He inched closer, slowly, as though he was waiting for her reaction. If she pushed him, would he stop? But then, if she leaned back, they would meet. Her mind was muddled. She didn't know what to do, acting like a girl who had never been kissed before.
Amara had decided. She won't think anymore. She just slowly lowered her eyes, her eyelashes brushed the corners, and her gaze landed on the naked lips next to hers before she completely lost sight of them.
Who knew that response would make Azer hungrier? The hopeful and bewitching gaze of Amara snapped his patience, and taking her action as silent consent, he closed the tiny gap between them without any hesitation, pressing his lips against her, savoring her taste.
His obedient hands on her waist swiftly climbed to the back of her head, holding it in place. His hungry lips urged hers to open, and once he was finally welcomed, he wasted no time and deepened the bond.
Screw the rules and concept of bonds and mates, forget the moon goddess' strings of fates, he won't care anymore, even if his fate was still unsure, because at last, his thirst was quenched, and his heart at rest.