Chapter 4

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I sat on the counter in his bathroom, crossing my legs at my ankles. His bathroom was huge - his company must be extremely successful. 

His left hand rested on my jawline and he was using his other to dab the blood away with a cotton ball. He put something on it that made me wince slightly, it burning where the blood was coming from. Malcolm always wore a bunch of rings, and they did more damage than a regular punch would've.

He noticed me wincing and said, "Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle."

He did start to do it softer, but his face remained emotionless. He didn't look into my eyes once, but I found it hard to not look at his. They were as icy cold as the colour, not a single emotion behind them.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I know this must've inconvenienced you." 

He sighed slightly, "You talk a lot."

That was my first time talking since we came in here.

I remained quiet as he cleaned my wound. I was curious how he knew how to do this, but I didn't want to ask. He seemed even grumpier than usual today, which is saying something. I guess that he could feel me biting my tongue since he said, "Just say it."

"How do you know how to do this?" I asked.

He threw the cotton ball into the garbage can and placed both of his hands on the counter, both of them being just millimeters from my legs. He leaned forward, and he was so close that I could feel some of his soft black hair against my forehead. 

"I'll answer if you'll answer something for me after."

I nodded my head, "Sounds fair."

"I took a first aid class a while ago," he told me as my eyes got distracted. The silver chain around his neck was dangling since he was leaning forward, and his shirt did too, allowing for me to see a few of his tattoos.

His cold hand suddenly moved to my jawline, gently pushing my face to be looking at his eyes again. He asked, "What made you want to date your ex?"

I felt caught off guard by his question. Even though I was already looking into his eyes again, he kept his hand on my jaw.

"Well....he was different when we first met. He was kind and caring until I fell in love with him, and once I loved him, that's when he started acting differently. He started controlling what I did, who I was and wasn't friends with, what I could and couldn't wear. I got sick of it after a while and broke up with him. He didn't take it super well....he broke a few things in my room before leaving."

He remained silent for a second. It looked like a flash of anger appeared on his face, but with how quickly it disappeared I questioned if it even happened at all.

He asked me, "Is he the only person who has something against you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Um...I guess?"

He nodded his head slightly, and I started to realize just how close we were to each other. He stood in between my legs, with his hands almost touching the outer part of my thighs. He didn't seem like it made him uncomfortable, but it was also impossible to know how he was feeling.

"What's your ex-boyfriend's name?" he asked me.

I smiled slightly, "You're asking more than one question. I'll tell you if you'll answer something for me."

He nodded his head, telling me to go ahead and ask. I asked him, "What is your favourite thing about life?"

I wanted to know more about him. Know what he does in his free time, what keeps the man happy that never goes near his family. 

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