Bullet ✔️

Chapter 5

I woke up to the elevator dinging in front of me.

The sun was shining through the windows, and in front of me a uniformed man stepped out of the elevator with a cart that smelled like heaven.

"Mr. Strac," the man said, ignoring me completely as Damian emerged from where he disappeared last night. "I hope everything will taste exquisite."

The man folded his hands and bowed to Damian, who didn't acknowledge him at all where he stood with his hair dripping and a towel barely tied around his waist. He had the lid from one of the plates in his hand, the other picking up pieces of bacon from the tray as if he couldn't wait at all to eat something.

The elevator dinged again, and we both looked towards it, before Damian said, "There are plenty of beds, and you chose the couch?"

"I didn't mean to," I whined, sitting up and stretching my sore limbs.

Judging by the aching in my bones I should have gone for a warm, soft bed, instead of sleeping in my cold clothes on the stiff velvet.

"I didn't know what you liked so I ordered a bit of everything," he said, putting another piece of bacon in his mouth, before setting the lid down. "Help yourself."

He picked up the plate he'd been eating from and walked over to a dining table that looked so expensive it would've paid for a new car. At least one good enough for my needs, I wasn't so sure about Damian's..

"Aren't you gonna..." I stopped myself before I said anything I'd regret, and walked over to the tray. I lifted the lids from several of the plates and eventually picked one with French toast and brought it over to where he sat enjoying his eggs, bacon and toast.

"Get dressed?" he finished for me as I sat down, a brow arched. "I sent my clothes to the wash earlier. I would've sent yours as well if you didn't sleep in them."

I grunted a reply, too hungry to think of anything to say back.

It tasted just as good as it looked and smelled, and my stomach started roaring loudly after the first bite, as if that too had finally woken up.

"Were you that afraid of me, that you slept as close as possible to the exit?"

I looked up, meeting his searching gaze, when he spoke. His voice seemed a little strained, and I wasn't sure if it was because he was hurt, or curious.

"No," I said, swallowing a huge bite of the delicious bread, "I just... fell asleep there." He arched another brow, but didn't say anything, so I tried my best to explain. "I was overwhelmed and sat down to clear my head, and... I must've fallen asleep."

He nodded then, as if finally understanding. "I wouldn't hurt you, you know."

"I know," I confirmed, though I wasn't sure I was telling the whole truth.

He still intimidated me a lot. His good looks was definitely one of the biggest reasons for that, and I'd avoided looking at his bare chest for an impressive amount of time when I finally succumbed as he looked back down at his food. His upper arms were covered in black ink that wrapped around to his upper chest, and I wondered if it covered his upper back as well..

My eyes traced the intricate lines and swirls around his sculpted frame, as if I could see what it all was. Some of it was flowers, other places there were guns and bullets. One place, around the place where his left shoulder turned into his chest, was a particularly black area that looked bumpy and was decorated with a big bullet among the darkness. A bigger one than the ones on his arms.

"Gunshot." His voice boomed through my ears, dragging my attention away from the bumpy skin and to his dark eyes. They looked almost black in the sunlight from the windows, and he pointed towards the place I realized I'd been staring. "Gunshot," he repeated. "Almost didn't make it."