Jay’s POV
I had only 3 words that summed up tonight.
Trauma.
Cruelty.
And Amy.
I had entered the venue at 6 in the evening and left it by 7, and by 8 I was home, totally drained and nauseous as if I were hit by a truck.
I was lying on my bed like a patient suffering from sleep paralysis. But it wasn't a ghost haunting me, stuck to the ceiling, but the photos I had seen at the gallery. If those black-and-white vintage pictures could wrench my gut, I wasn’t sure what the coloured pictures would look like. Even though my career as a medical professional included bloodshed and gore, I was still baffled. At least I had faced it to treat my patient, but looking at the very opposite situation made my heart sink.
I kept my eyes on the ceiling, looking at it so intensely to get my mind off it that I wondered if the ceiling would crack under my stare. It illuminated under the lightning every few seconds; it was pouring buckets out of my balcony. The roars of thunder crashed seconds later. But all I could hear was the rain hitting the window panes. I tried to focus, but it was all in vain. I just couldn’t fathom the cruelty and how devastating it was, no matter who the victim was.
I glanced at the watch.
It was 2 am. And sleep had been far away from my consciousness. All I did after coming home was freshen up, change, and lie down on my bed wide awake. My appetite had vanished, and my brain was mulling over my evening in circles. I couldn’t get Amy’s face out of my sight; that wicked glint in her eyes, though feigned nonchalance, was sheer arrogance.
They were blank, yet they felt prideful. A sickening pleasure. From the cruelty and wrath she had unleashed. It made my stomach lurch.
That look wasn't new to me. That unfeeling expression that she had carried on her face was not out of caution but habit. I had seen her wreak havoc when she had rescued me back then. She had made every man suffer in that room who had thought of killing me, but her eyes held protection, safety, and concern when she had finally met my eyes.
I had seen her cause destruction in those CCTV footages when she was in the underworld clan.
Though I had seen it from afar, more like God's view. But today I had seen that dead expression up close, and it gave me shivers. Her brown orbs were cold and distant with sick satisfaction, as if she were content with her work.
Thinking and thinking over whatever had happened today.
I wanted Mrs. Park to suffer the worst. I had wished for revenge. I did loathe myself for having such feelings of hatred, but I had still wished for it. I had wanted her to face hell on earth 2 years back. And turns out my wish came true. The revelation at the gallery didn't hit hard. It was like a gruesome acidic chemical being stabbed into the vein. Numb at first, and then slowly starting to burn as it festered and travelled across the nervous system. You kind of feel numb but hyperaware at the same time.
She had satiated her thirst for revenge. I could only imagine the worst that would have happened to Mrs. Park. I didn't even sympathize with her. And I didn’t really want to imagine what else Amy had done to her.
I had known Amy wasn't a regular person, but seeing her worst version up close had made me go numb with panic. I felt my heart drumming in my ears, ringing with sirens of despair, but I could do nothing, just stare at raw insanity right in those eyes. Cruelty painted in justice. It made me overthink so much that it made my head hurt.
I shot up from my bed, fed up with all the trying. The fact was clear as day that I wasn't going to get an ounce of sleep tonight.
I rose to my feet, descending down the stairs straight to the kitchen. A warm cup of water should suffice. I made my way to the deserted island of the kitchen, lifting a glass from the nearby counter. The sudden rumbling outside made me flinch as the glass almost slipped through my fingers, but I somehow managed to grip it. I sighed.
I diverted my attention towards the window. It was harsh and windy, and lightning occurred every few minutes. I didn’t know what was going through my head that I thought opening the window in stormy weather was a better idea. I still twisted the stopper, opening the window.
I could feel the cold mist all over my face. The wind was blowing in the opposite direction out of pure luck, which is why I wasn’t drenched yet.
I stepped closer, my eyes wandering to the dark neighbourhood that was visible from the kitchen window. Not a single flicker of light. My eyes landed on the car parked right in front of the gate, which was visible through the kitchen window.
The hell.
Must have been an emergency, but I couldn't help but circle back. It wasn't a normal car. But a fucking luxury car. And I hadn’t seen any car of this kind in the neighbourhood. It made me skeptical. I was being paranoid, but I clearly couldn’t ignore such signs. I had been attacked numerous times when I had decided to reopen the orphanage.
The lightning hit again; this time I could see the car more clearly. The more I thought about it, the more unsettling it felt.
I was very well aware of the toxic habit of overthinking, my brain hating to sit idle. I couldn’t stop overthinking, mulling over the same things again and again. I forcefully shrugged off my thoughts, shutting the windowpane as I drank a warm glass of water, hoping I could catch some sleep.
I entered my room, and yet again my mind wandered to the balcony. What if… What if it was actually what I was thinking? I bit my lip, annoyed that my brain was so paranoid that I couldn’t catch a wink of sleep.
I stepped out to the room’s balcony, which was not very wet. I stepped out. The backyard of my garden came into view. The lightning struck again. For a second, I almost thought it was my imagination, but I swear… I swear I saw someone down there.
I froze, my heart dropping, least expecting a serial killer to trespass on my property. I waited for the lightning to strike again after the thunder, which it did. I saw a human figure still in the same position, crouched to the ground.
It was so fucking creepy. My heart was racing. Should I check? Or should I lock all the doors and call it a good night?
Shit! Nope!
I took a sharp breath, deciding to look who it was. Though a dumb idea to directly confront a potential killer, I had fewer options for my rescue on a stormy night.
I opened a drawer from the dresser, retrieving the gun that Amy had given me for self-defence. I tucked it into my waistband behind my torso. Grabbing an umbrella and torch, I made my way to the living room.
I looked left and right once I exited the door. Low-key expecting the intruder to jump on me and finish this suspense thriller.
I circled the house to the backyard, where I had spotted the person earlier. Flicking my torch on, I kept looking around. I stopped at a distance once I reached the garden; it was all muddy, and I clearly wasn’t hallucinating.
There was a literal person! In my backyard for God knows what reason!!
Though it looked harmless, I still kept my gun handy, internally praying that I would not commit murder tonight.
I stepped closer and closer until I was standing just 5 steps away. That person seemed oblivious to my presence. He was still crouched on his knees, as I had seen him from the balcony before. His hands were raking and plunging across the wet mud as if he were trying to find something.
I took a very, very deep breath, mustering all the courage from the universe as I stepped even closer right behind him. I stopped to think... this person was very familiar. The red, shiny fabric caught my eye, gleaming under the torchlight. I had seen this clothing today. Then…it hit me.
It was her.
It had to be her.
I was 100% sure; it was Amy. I had figured that out, but what was she doing here?
I was hovering right over her head, and she was still unbothered. I tapped my gun on her shoulder, catching her attention.
She slowly craned her body toward me, lifting her head to meet my gaze.
She was drenched from head to toe. Her subtly styled hair from the evening was now in wet locks sticking to her forehead. Her hands were muddy, and her pants and blazer were also soiled.
What the heck was she doing here?
Amy: Doctor?
She mumbled, disoriented; her words sounded childlike.
She looked pale, flushed from the cold. She must have been in the rain for a long time. Was she drunk? I had never seen her act abnormally under the influence.
That couldn’t be. She had a high tolerance.
I walked to the front, switching off the torch, crouching on my knees in front of her as I placed the umbrella above us, covering her from getting any wetter. I finally spoke.
Jay: Why are you here?
I asked her in a scolding tone, almost yelling, as the stormy rain made it hard to talk. I stared at her red nose and almost blue lips, pursed into a pout. She looked upset at me.
What was wrong with her?
She didn’t answer, looking at me with a glare, letting herself butt crash to the muddy ground, legs crossed, hands rubbing at her pants, trying to wipe off the mud.
Jay: What are you doing here?
I asked again, a little calmer this time.
She was full of surprises today.
Amy: You are evil!
She murmured slurredly. I scoffed at the statement.
Oh sure! Says the one who displays real torture in the museum and makes money out of it. But I put that thought aside.
Jay: We can talk inside. Let’s go in before you catch a cold.
I spoke calmly again, totally ignoring her earlier words.
Amy: No! I’m not going in. I want it back.
She muttered slowly, her words trailing in between as she tried to form a sentence in her best efforts.
I looked at her, puzzled. Want what back?
She threw another tantrum, her cheeks puffed, and God, she looked so cute. She was showing me her new side today. But this wasn’t a time for adoration, not in the middle of the stormy night, partially drenched.
Jay: We can discuss it later. We should go in. It’s cold.
I insisted again.
Amy: Noooo.
She threw another tantrum, throwing her fists in the air and slamming them to the soil on the sides like a child.
Amy: Give it back to me first.
She stretched out her muddy palm towards me, and I looked at her; I really looked at her, totally dumbfounded.
Give her what exactly?
Jay: What is it?
I deadpanned, my eyes twitching lightly.
Amy: The rings that you threw out. It’s not trash. You do not get to call it trash.
I froze. All this time she had been looking around for our wedding rings? I was now able to understand why she was here and out of her senses. I remembered calling those wedding bands "trash" but didn’t have the heart to throw them away, so they were now safely kept in my vanity’s drawer.
But what I didn’t understand was that she had came all the way here in this state to look for those rings.
I sighed.
If those rings were so precious to her, why wasn’t I? Why did these pathetic pair of metal bands held her attention more than me? But now wasn’t the moment for argument if she was going to use baby language to retort.
Jay: I have them with me. But you’ll have to get inside first.
I saw her death stare at me, her hair covering most of her vision.
She pursed her lips into a pout again.
I had seen her flirty, seductive, and dominant, but never so adorable. She looked like a kid with those expressions. Having 100% intent to attack, but 0% intent to harm.
Lord. Save me.
I tucked the gun back into my waistband and the torch into my sweatpants pocket as I tried to help her stand, which I miserably failed at. The umbrella in my hand flew away in the sudden wind, and I graciously slipped on the wet mud along with Amy.
Viola! Now both of us will need a bath!
My clothes were sticking to my body by the time I managed to get both Amy and me standing. She was struggling to stand straight. I had managed to lean her weight on me, this time careful of the slippery mud.
I ditched the idea of making her walk to the door. Not giving it a second thought, I hooked my arms under her knees and back, successfully lifting Amy in my arms in bridal style, abandoning the umbrella in the yard. I could get that in the morning. I got rid of my shoes at the main door once we entered the living room.
We made our way towards the bedroom upstairs, and I finally stopped right inside the bathroom, placing her near the bathtub. I stood straight as I looked down at all the soaked and muddy Amy, and then I looked at my reflection in the mirror. We were both soiled. She was drenched to the bone, and I had no clue how long she had been in the rain.
She was cold as a corpse. Her lips had turned slightly blue; she looked so pale. I predicted it to be the early stage of hypothermia. She needed warmth. I moved towards the bathtub, turning on the water tap, stealing a glance at her from the corner of my eye.
She had gone completely still, dropping to the floor. I lunged forward next to her, cupping her face in my palms. She didn’t look at me, but she looked through me.
This was not normal. I slid her hair away from her eyes. Her eyes were red. I examined her face. I had seen her drunk before, and she clearly wasn’t drunk; she didn’t reek of alcohol.
My heart felt heavy.
She might have been drugged. My brain was imagining the worst possible scenarios. The possibility itself made my heart sink. I leaned closer as I took off her shoes, then her blazer, leaving her in a black shirt. I spotted a glint of silver shining across her neck. It was pricked into her skin.
No. I hoped it was my imagination.
It looked like a broken syringe.
My heart dropped.
No. No. No.
This couldn’t be. Please prove me wrong.
I immediately grabbed a medical kit from the nearby cabinet. Grabbing a pair of tweezers, I took a deep breath, trying my best not to panic. I slowly pulled the needle out of her skin, placing it in the basin. I would get it tested.
I looked back at her, cupping her face. I tried to get her attention, snapping my fingers in her face; her reaction was slower than a tortoise. I prioritised getting her warm and cleaned first. I gently jerked her face, patting her cheek to make her look at me.
I prayed, hoping there were no side effects of the drug, a joke in itself.
Jay: Amy. Amy! Look at me! Look at me!
She finally gave a sleepy smile.
Jay: Stay awake. I’ll change my clothes and be back in 2 minutes. Okay, do not move. Okay?
I repeated my words slowly and repeated them until she reacted to them. She finally gave a lazy smile, muttering, "Okay." I sighed as I gave a last glance at her. I practically dashed out of the room, quickly changing my clothes and arranging a fresh pair for her. I switched on the heater in the room as I ran back to the bathroom where I had left her.
I barged in with a thud, my feet slamming harder across the tiles as I pulled all my energy not to leave her alone. And the bathroom was empty. She wasn’t near the bathtub anymore.
Jay: Amy?
I echoed, only to hear my voice returning. She couldn't leave the room in that state. She wasn’t in her senses.
I moved in closer. My breath hitched; I saw the water-filled bathtub from before, completely red. And I saw her immersed in the water. She was completely still.
No.
My heart dropped, and I spared no time, lunging both hands into the tub. I pulled her out, screaming her name.
God, I shouldn’t have left her alone. The moment I dragged her out of the tub, she was completely still in my arms. Not moving. At all.
I made her lie on the floor, quickly performing CPR. But she didn’t respond. I felt my soul dying, raw panic seeping into my veins. I was mentally cursing myself; I couldn’t even register myself yelling her name again and again like a mantra that could make her regain consciousness.
Jay: Don’t die on me, please!
I whimpered as I kept compressing her chest.
I can’t lose her, not because of my stupidity. I kept going and going for another minute. But to no avail. I finally leaned in to her face, giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Please. Please.
Jay: Do not die on me.
I whispered. I leaned in again, squishing her cheeks to open her mouth for me. I took a deep breath, almost having a panic attack.
I blew in oxygen again and again.
I pulled back; my tears were smeared on her cold cheeks.
Please no. Don’t do this to me!
This must be a dream, a fucking nightmare. She cannot die because of my negligence. I was in denial. My breaths were ragged as I somehow managed to control them. I wasn’t ready to accept the possibility of her being dead. I fished for the last option. I pushed my ear right above her heart. I begged it to beat.
My eyes were shut, mumbling "please," like she could hear it and forgive me for whatever I had done to make her upset, and just come back to me. I felt it, faint but steady, in a rhythm. My breath staggered when I felt her cold hand touching my nape.
She drew a lazy chuckle.
Amy: It tickles. Your hair is tickly. Soft.
I snapped my eyes open and saw her smiling. She wasn't moving earlier. She felt so cold and still. And now she was playing with the locks of my hair like she wasn’t just playing dead earlier.
How did she hold her breath underwater all this time? Not to mention she had been severely intoxicated.
She was playing with me all this time!!
Amy: Damn, I made you cry.
The audacity of this woman to smirk at me after almost giving me a heart attack.
I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my shirt as I looked at her, dumbfounded.
Jay: What were you doing inside the bathtub? I told you to wait for me here!
I scolded her, pointing at the place where she had been sitting before.
Her lips curved into a smirk.
Amy: I’m sorry. It was warm and quiet there.
Looking at her expression, she wasn’t at all sorry. But she was now talking to me; her words landed slowly, but they were still understandable.
I finally felt my heart calming. I looked at her and her clothes that were sticking to her body; I glanced at the bathtub behind her; the water was diluted in translucent red. It could be wine, or it could be blood. I hoped it was the former.
Was she hurt? The drug might have numbed her senses to feel any kind of pain. I scooted closer to her, holding her chin towards me. She felt less cold than before. Maybe I was cold from panicking all this time that I couldn't feel her temperature changing. Now that I had calmed in relief, I was able to feel her heat returning.
Jay: Are you hurt anywhere?
My words were carefully slow to make her register. She nodded yes. And my heart dropped at the affirmation.
Jay: Where?
I panicked, searching for any open wounds or gashes that could draw that much blood, but I didn’t see any.
She lifted my palm, placing it right over her heart.
She was shot earlier on the right; was she shot again? On a vital organ?!
I spent no time as I hastily unbuttoned her shirt. Once I peeled off her shirt, I looked for injuries, and there weren't any.
Must be the wine. She had to be kidding.
I thought about it again. A half-pricked needle to her neck was how the drug could have been injected into her system. She was surely ambushed, and she must have fought back, which broke the syringe in the process. If she was attacked by multiple people, then it only meant that the blood in the bathtub belonged to those people. And for that much blood to be shed… She had clearly slaughtered them. I could see no signs of her shirt fabric being torn, nor on the pants.
She had rather dramatically placed my hand over her heart again, saying she was hurt.
I rolled my eyes. She was so adorable and annoying at the same time, being intoxicated and out of her mind.
Jay: Amy. I am very serious. Where did that blood come from?
My tone changed; her expression went from hurt to a cute pout, acting as if my words had physically hurt her. But I needed the truth.
I repeated my question as I pulled her closer. She finally seemed to get my words.
Amy: I guess I was attacked, and maybe I killed a few people, and I drove back here.
She managed to pull another sentence.
She drove back! What?
Jay: You drove here?
I screeched as I jerked her by her shoulders to make sure she understood what I was interpreting from her words.
Amy: Automatic—
She tried to gather her words. I understood by then that she had set our house location as the default address for home, and that's how she got here. I was very thankful for this technology.
I took a deep breath of relief, unbothered by the fact that she had murdered people tonight. Call me a psycho, but Amy mattered to me. I had partially adopted her morals without my conscience, and the realisation didn’t even bother me.
Jay: Okay, Amy. Listen to me. You need to take a warm bath to get your core temperature back and get changed. Okay?
I felt like a mom trying to tame a naughty kid. Slowly landing each word for her to understand.
I should have run a shower; the bathtub was a bad idea.
For the next 30 minutes, I threw my shyness out the window as I hesitantly but carefully bathed her and changed her clothes. My face flushed as I kept my not-so-saintly thoughts out of the window. Why did she had to be so attractive?
Amy had put my patience to the test, not leaving a moment to tease me red. In the past, she would stare at me like an artist staring her muse, but now she was being quite daring. Touching me at most sensitive places unconsciously, fooling around with her little innocent act, and God, I prayed to all the holy spirits of the universe not to lose my control.
She was back to her flirty attitude.
I finally placed her on the vanity table, my hands busy with the towel, ruffling her hair dry. She kept running circles around my abs, teasing and brushing with her fingers in random patterns, stopping at every minute to give me that specific look, to tease me with anticipation. The only piece holding my sanity was the thin fabric of my shirt that had kept her from directly touching my skin.
I kept my focus on her head, even though it had already dried 5 minutes ago.
Lord. She was such a menace. I could clearly see that sly smile on her face and I could do nothing about it. Part of me wanted to give in and the other part was hyperaware of the fact that she was intoxicated and not in her senses. I finally took away the towel, ruffling her hair, and put some distance between us to hold my self-control, which was already hanging by a tiny thread, ready to snap if she pushed a finger further.
I looked at her from head to toe, dressed in a comfortable pyjama shirt and trousers. Those were my clothes; they were oversized for her, making her look adorable in them. And it did things to me. The last time I had seen her in my shirt at the orphanage, I had a hard time not ogling at her.
She finally looked alive. Her face was finally holding colour; the redness on her nose was faint now, and her bluish lips were back to their natural shade as she wet them again with her tongue while her brown orbs stayed trained on me.
I think the drugs had started to wear off. She stared at me intently, as if memorising every bit of my face; I swallowed, turning away, and excused myself to check the heater’s temperature. The room had significantly grown warm. It was working.
I heard her groan as I quickly turned back to her. Her hands held her head as she tried to stay steady. I quickly rushed to her, fearing it was the drug’s side effect or even risky—an overdose.
Jay: Does your head hurt?
I pressed my palms to her temple, massaging it slowly to ease the pain. I prayed it was nothing serious. I had been overthinking it.
She let her arms fall to the side, leaning into my touch. Her head rested on my chest, her arms sliding and wrapping around my torso, and I eased. My nerves were relaxing, having her safe and close to me. And by the time I realised, I had been holding her in my arms; her body felt warmer, back to the perfect core temperature. I hoped she didn’t catch a cold.
Jay: You need to sleep now.
I murmured, lifting her from her sitting position at the vanity as she instinctively clung to me like a koala. I took careful steps, reaching closer to the bed, and gently placed her. Once assured she had been placed safely, I rose to my height as I took a thorough look at her face, looking for any signs of discomfort. The headache from before had eased down, and I found her staring at me with those droopy eyes simmering with signs of sleep.
I didn't trust myself with her tonight. I stuck to my goal of making sure she was asleep, and I would then escape the room. I couldn’t stay in the same room as her tonight, knowing she was all extra flirty and was giving in to all the intrusive thoughts she had in mind. I was afraid I would agree with her ideas if she gave me that knee-bending look one more time.
She was still holding onto my hand, nuzzling into it, seeking more warmth. I had to be vigilant. I slowly wriggled her grip out of my fingers. Once I had fully detached myself from her, her hand raised in the air as if she were seeking my warmth. She rather found the hem of my shirt, gripping the fabric tight in her sleep. I gulped, praying to every God in the universe to deal with her wits tonight.
I carefully brought my hands to her clenched fist; her eyes were closed, lips parting, and she was blabbering something in a whisper that I couldn’t catch. I glanced between her face and her fist, making sure she wouldn’t notice me pulling away.
I slowly lifted her index finger, then the other, and the next, and finally ended on her pinky finger with careful patience as I slowly placed her hand back on her abdomen. I tucked her under the blanket carefully. Once I made sure she was asleep, I tiptoed to the exit, not wanting my footsteps to wake her up.
I finally reached the door as I slowly creaked it open. I heard a rustling sound behind me as I cautiously craned my neck to glance back, and damn me. She was awake now, sitting straight, leaning back against the headboard, giving me that lazy, smug smile of hers, charismatic enough to kill me.
Amy: Doctor?
I gave a wry smile, not sure what was about to happen next.
Amy: Are you leaving me? Alone?
She playfully uttered in that husky voice, her eyes gleaming with want, and it made my knees buckle.
Wasn't she asleep like seconds ago?
I was starting to assume that she was just acting drugged at this point. She had to be playing with me. But I knew better; those bastards from the underworld had trained her to tolerate such intoxications, to make sure her intent stayed sealed in any situation, no matter how much worse the torture got.
Amy: My back hurts.
She drawled out dramatically.
I finally paid attention, breaking away from my thoughts. She was hiding that sly smile of hers, lips pursed in a thin line.
Jay: I’ll get you medicine.
I blurted, acting as if I had given her issue a serious thought.
Amy: No. I don’t want medicine. Come here…
She lies down on her stomach. What was she thinking?
I stepped closer, clearly intrigued.
Jay: What do you want then?
I muttered, barely above a whisper.
Amy: Give me a massage.
She had to be kidding me.
My stomach fluttered; she definitely had to know what she was doing. She could so easily mess with my head.
I sighed.
She raised her head, craning her neck towards me.
Amy: Sit on my back.
She blurted it out as if asking for candy.
What the heck?
Jay: Nope. You need sleep.
I retorted, replying monotonously as I stuck to the idea of getting the fuck out of this room before I lose my last shred of control.
Amy: Then, sleep with me. You got 2 options.
It came out so wrong; it sounded like an invitation. NO! She was intoxicated; but it sounded so sinful coming from her lips. God was seriously testing my control.
I swallowed, trying to muster up an excuse but couldn’t think of any.
Jay: I’ll massage your back.
I selected her previous option. I couldn’t leave her alone while she was awake; I was afraid she would do some life-threatening stupidity again.
I reached closer to the bed, and she demanded again for me to sit on her back with that deep, raspy voice of hers. I just couldn’t resist.
I carefully climbed onto the bed, hovering above her back as I slowly leaned my weight on her torso. She exhaled a deep breath in relief.
She must be really in pain. I felt her relaxing beneath me as if my weight didn’t even suffocate her; she was even more relaxed.
I slowly trailed my hands on her back, tracing her spine to her shoulders as I gently pressed my palms to relax her muscles, picking up a pace, following thoroughly from her spine to her shoulders. She groaned every few seconds, every time I pressed on particular spots. It made me blush furiously; I was pretty sure my ears and neck were red by now. At first I thought she was genuinely feeling relaxed and wasn't in her right head to sound like that.
But she continued to moan like a brat, pushing at every button of my sanity. She was driving me to the edge. God, I desperately needed to get my mind out of the gutter, and those wanton noises from her weren’t really helping. She was doing this on purpose; I could feel her smiling after every sound.
And if that wasn’t enough, she moaned my name next; I almost groaned at that raw, deep, husky voice of hers. A few minutes passed by, and I somehow managed to keep my fucking sanity in check. I mumbled random numbers in my head like I was chanting a mantra, just to distract myself from her voice, which really didn’t help. All I could feel was the rhythm of her pulse under me, the depth in her voice alluring me like a siren. It drove me wild.
I bit my lip, closing my eyes as I inhaled a deep breath, wanting to keep a safe distance. My instincts were screaming the exact opposite, wanting to flip her around and stare at her expressions while I made sure I gave her the right reasons to moan. I wanted to see her face—those hypnotising eyes and those lips when she would scream my name, and I would record it in my memory.
My fingers unconsciously stopped at her nape, finger pads resting right above her pulse. Her pulse was erratic, just like mine. As I tried my extreme level of best to push every sinful thought away.
Jesus Christ!
Amy: Do you want to choke me?
Nothing in her tone relayed that it was asked out of innocence. I clicked my tongue, all done being a saint. I lifted my weight from her torso as I instantly flipped her beneath me before she could even register. Her face came into my view; she looked partially shocked and caught off guard, yet that small smirk on her lips clearly gave it away. My hands rested on her bare waist, feeling her warm skin right under her (my) shirt as the fabric bunched up to my knuckles.
Jay: I am trying to be a saint here. Do not test me.
I whispered in a rough voice, and her lips curled even further, satisfied. And rather than being embarrassed for being caught red-handed, she raised her hand to my face, brushing her fingers on my lips, rubbing my lower lip under the pad of her thumb, and continuing those ministrations on my jaw and neck, exploring my sensitivity to her touch. And I was really very sensitive to her touch.
I couldn't help but take a sharp breath that confirmed how much she affected me.
Amy: Were you thinking of kissing me?
She whispered.
Jay: Worse.
I muttered truthfully.
Amy: What’s stopping you?
She proceeded to test my waters. I pulled all my logical senses into account.
Jay: You are intoxicated; it’s the drug speaking, so get some sleep. We’ll talk when you’re sober.
I played dumb to distract her from the topic. But she looked upset at my response. The shift in her mood was instant.
Amy: Do you hate me?
I paused, my hands gripping her waist tighter. She let her hands fall near her head.
Jay: I could ask you the same.
I mutter roughly, finally letting out a breath again, pulling all the buzzing thoughts in my head together. I bit my lip, looking away from her face that could melt me into a puddle.
Amy: I do not hate you…
She confessed.
Oh, and I’m not so fucking satisfied with that answer.
Jay: Then why do you push me away? You act like you’re fucking God, pulling up Jesus-level shit every damn time. And I’m done with you leaving me like a dumbass every time I think I have gotten closer to you. You go missing for days, and you get shot; you choose to do a job that has all the potential to get you killed at any given moment. You have been ambushed, and you are drugged right now, which would have been an overdose if you hadn’t killed every fucking person who had tried to harm you out there. And you say you do not hate me! But your actions hurt me, a fucking lot.
I burst out as I gripped her waist even tighter when she squirmed slightly. The playfulness from earlier had left her face; her eyes looked glassy and hazy, yet focused on my face, reading my emotions. She had undone me again. It was so easy for her to make me react and speak my mind while she remained like a book with a lock.
Amy: I just need your forgiveness. I want you to move on. Lead a life…that brings you happiness. I… want you to marry the person you love and live a life that is not problematic or life-threatening like mine.
The words that left her mouth were slow yet filled with raw genuineness. But those words had hit me like bullets. I drew my breath steadily, gathering my thoughts. I finally breathed, meeting her eyes.
Jay: I see. You have been desperately needing my forgiveness all this time. I’ll forgive you on one condition. Listen to it very carefully. I want you to be by my side; I don’t want you dead. And you’ll not leave me, ditch me, or ghost me. And if you try to do any of these, I fucking swear I’ll chain you to my bed and won't let you leave. Mark my words.
I let my words settle in her brain. Though I realised they sounded like a psychopath’s dialogue from a thriller movie, I wasn’t really kidding at the moment. Each word, every syllable, was emphasised to make sure she knew what she was stepping into. She remained silent under my gaze, swallowing.
Jay: Give me your word, Amy.
I demanded.
She slowly nodded.
Amy: I promise.
A promise.
Jay: I won’t be letting you break your promise this time. It’s a deal.
Her eyes widened a little as she slowly nodded.
I breathed and exhaled, calming my revolting nerves as I plopped myself next to her on the other side of the bed. I peeked at Amy, who looked like a dream.
Jay: What are you looking at?
I stared at the ceiling, finding her ogling at me from my peripheral vision.
Amy: Will you chain me to your bed?
She was sulking.
Was she still stuck on that? I was starting to feel second-hand embarrassment from the choice of words I had blurted in the heat of the moment.
I looked back at her not sure whether to laugh at her cutness or be embarrassed.
Rather than answering her question, I pulled her closer, holding her in my arms, caressing and fondling her waist like every time to get her asleep. Time passed by; I didn't even remember when I fell into slumber.
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Hey Readers!
I know it took me a long time to get back with another chapter as we are slowly approaching to the end. Life has been busy and working on the plots, edits and proofreading has taken me forever. But yeah we're just one chapter away! I can add a bonus ans epilogue maybe ✌💀 But it has been a rollercoaster and I would soon update on the next chapter ASAP ✨
Till then... Stay Tuned and curious ✨✨
Thank you
Peace ✌
