The Devil's weakness

12. confessions

Violet's POV:

I said I wanted a good sleep, but someone just woke me up, in the middle of the fucking night.

I hear my door bell ring for the fourth time now. Who could it be, it's fucking 2 in the morning??

I open the door and there's a tall and large figure standing in front of me, a smirk plastered on his face.

Blake?

"What are you doing here? And it's 2 am?!" I whisper yell at him as he just looks at me, no words coming out of his mouth.

He looks behind my back and then at me, clearly gesturing that he wants to come inside.
I move to the side as he slowly enters my house.

I close the door and turn around, seeing him reaching the living room. Yeah, mi casa es tu casa Blake.

I follow him and we seat on my comfy couch, he's still staring at my eyes.
"Are you going to tell me what's happening?" I ask, I don't know if I should be concerned.

"Why are you doing this?" he finally speaks, his tone soft. What am I doing exactly?

I don't speak, because I'm still trying to understand the question, when he opens his mouth again "Why are you doing this to me?"

"What are you talking about?" I laugh a little because I feel dumb for not understanding.

"That." he says, closing his eyes. "Laughing?" I ask and see him nod. "I can't laugh?" I say smiling and he opens his eyes again, looking at mine before glancing at my smiling lips.

"I'm supposed to hate you, Violet."

My eyes widened a little. I don't know if it was for what he just said or for the fact that he called me by my name for the first time.

Probably both.

"Someone's drunk. You can sleep here tonight if you want to, or if you don't then I can call Jacob to pick you up" I say getting up from the couch and he does too, stepping closer to me.

"No. I'll leave alone, but please just stay here a minute." he says and his hand grabs mine, bringing it to his chest and keeping it there.

We sit again on the couch, I rest my head on his chest and he gently strokes my hair.

He's just drunk and maybe even high, he doesn't really care about this. I bet he's going to forget this the second he falls asleep. But it's okay, we still hate each other.

I close my eyes, I'm about to sleep when I hear him mutter something in Italian: "Credo che tu mi abbia rubato il cuore, piccola."

("I think you stole my heart, little one")

I hate the fact that I can't understand it. I really need to take some extra Italian lessons from Silvia.

We both fall asleep like that, and I swear, it wasn't that bad. Maybe it wasn't even bad.

I wake up on the couch, but this time I'm alone.
I knew he wouldn't be here in the morning but still, I hoped he didn't leave this early.

Whatever.

I get up and glance at the clock, 8.17 am.

I walk to the kitchen and my heart instantly skips a beat when I see Blake, shirtless and cooking. In my kitchen. Shirtless. Cooking.

"You can take a picture if you want" he says, his back still facing me. I could feel the smirk on his face as he flipped something and then turned to me. I roll my eyes and make my way into the kitchen.