↳ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑

𝐕𝐈 - 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘

◈

Birds chirping outside the window is what Sierra hears first. However it's the sound of soft breaths that fully pry her eyes open, blinking away her fatigue as she comes to. The body she's curled up to is unbelievably warm and inviting. Head rising with every inhale and his heart beating peacefully.

He stayed.

Remnants of the previous night are still caught up in the haziness of her mind. Catching a groan before it can escape her throat, she carefully lifts her head from his chest when her phone buzzes from across the room.

Whoever it is can wait for a moment because she'd rather admire the man sleeping soundly to her right. Not only did he stay, he slept. Perhaps he needed rest more than he let on given he hasn't stirred yet.

Her eyes walk along the expanse of his smooth face. How dare he look so innocent. It should be illegal for someone so savage to look so good. As if he couldn't hurt a damn fly.

She shakes her head at her jumbled thoughts, internally scolding herself. He's manipulative. Controlling. A killer. There shouldn't be an ounce of interest on her part.

But a cold blooded killer wouldn't willingly share the bed with her without being asked to. Nor would he attend a gala he has no interest in: posing as her date, saving her from trouble and leaving only a few inches between them.

Another vibration has her eyelids fluttering out of frustration. Slowly rising from the bed without alerting him, his arm slips from around her waist. She chooses to ignore how she misses the weight and the security of it. How she longs for the warmth of him.

Tucking her hair behind her ear and scrolling through the mass of notifications, she sighs, raising the device to her ear to listen to each of the voicemails from Andrew.

The first consists of stuttered apologies and a wavering voice. Another mentions a hefty pay rise. Then he tries to collect himself in the last one, voice as steady as can be as he requests for her to meet with him. To hear him out and let him express how sorry he is in person.

"Bastard." She accidentally thuds the device against the desk. Gripping the back of the chair, her head turns when she hears a deep inhale. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

He sits with an elbow resting atop his bent knee. "What is it?"

"Nothing." She steps away. "I'll make you something to eat. Can't kill people on an empty stomach." She then disappears downstairs without another word.

Once changed into fresh clothes he joins her in the kitchen, observing the fresh pancakes being placed onto two plates. Normally she wouldn't wait to dig in but the flood of messages has sadly ruined her appetite.

"You don't have to do this."

"Make breakfast? It's no trouble." The distraction is welcome.

"Be kind to me."

She almost laughs until she meets his gaze and learns that he's serious. A tinge of sorrow dampening his features. She lowers the pan into the sink and brushes her hands together, head tilting to one side.

"You think I'm faking it?"

"No. But I can tell that it's eating you up inside. You shouldn't care for me. I'm a monster."