The Maid's Guide to the Mafia

21

Kamala's POV

No words.

I had no words.

I sunk my head in deeper onto the white cushion which incidentally happened to be laying on the same bed I was kissed in just a moment earlier.
It suddenly felt wrong of me to use the cushion, or lay on that bed in his room, as if I was taking advantage of him, that I had somehow unknowingly tricked him and brought this upon myself.

The though had me recoil, forcing myself to leave the comfort of the freshly fluffed cushions that held my head in place, causing my head to perform metaphorical summersaults with every second.

I have no idea how- why it happened. One minute, he was holding my hand which was already bizarre enough, and then the next, his lips were sunken beneath mine, gently caressing my lower lip.

A slight wince crept over me as I recalled my frozen stance. I just stood there, my eyes wide open, completely motionless. I wanted to cover myself from the world.

The kiss didn't last long. As soon as Alister realized what he was doing, he pulled away abruptly, eyebrows curved with regret and stormed out through the door, slamming it shut and leaving me alone and bewildered.

Even after what seemed like a lifetime that I had spent since he left trying to comprehend what possessed him to do as he did, I was still as confused as ever.

I placed my palm to my beating heart, trying to lower its pace, almost as a harsh reminder that this was reality. I was here, and he was here and it- that happened.

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment and I felt I was coming down with a fever. The thought of leaving the room was downright terrifying. The last thing I wanted in the moment was to live out that awkward encounter I would soon have to face.
To see the regret and disgust plastered on his face... To have him look at me like everyone else did. To have that power to make me feel less than.

God, I was finally okay. I mean, I wasn't okay, but I was- content? I could have been okay if it weren't for that kiss. That kiss that will ruin everything, an invisible barrier that never should have been crossed that I just bulldozed over.

After countless of debates and arguments that took place in my brain, I decided I couldn't stay sulking in here as it was not even my room and even after everything, I still had a job to do.

. Surprisingly, I didn't feel light-headed as I got up from the bed. Taking a deep breath, I opened the doors and stepped out into the master living room. It was almost morning now and I quickly realized I had about an hour before I had to wake up.

The thought of Madam Chevrolet finding out that I was not in my bed was enough to make me speed out of the door (cleaning equipment at hand) and tip-toed my way down the stairs.
Surprisingly, the bruises didn't seem to hurt. I gently placed a hand on my back and reached for the scar that had been reopened not even a full 24 hours ago.
Weirdly enough, it had been stitched up by what I can only assume was the doctor's work.

As I stepped onto the first stair of the 14th floor. My heart froze as I recalled the scene that happened on this very place.
I looked around the corner of the staircase to see if he was lurking around the corridor again. Even with the clear sight in view, my legs were still hesitant to move.
The nightmares kept coming back to me and I struggled to keep breathing.