Heaven Will Make Us Disappear

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"Marcel?" I run the space between us and meet him halfway, my anger fading immediately to change to worry.

"What happened to you?"

"Why were you leaving?"

"Are you kidding me? You left me alone in your flat. No words, no nothing on when you would be coming back. What did you want me to do?!" I retort with attitude, but I calm myself when I realise that he might just have gone through something dreadful to be injured like that and I can't hold it against him.

"I would have been back sooner if I didn't get bothered."

"Bothered?! That's what's gotten you that bloody nose?!" I question him with considerable doubt.

"Yes." He only responds, and I shake my head in disbelief. He never elaborates.

"Why were you running? Were you attacked? Are you followed?" I worry more and look behind him before I take him absentmindedly by the waist to help for support if he needs, and guide him back to his flat.

"I didn't want you to leave. Eddy texted me. I am maybe not used to having someone to my flat, but I am not a jerk, Grace."

"Next time, leave a note." I look up at him and smile slightly. That is if he wants to see me again, other than professionally. "Come on. I'll get you cleaned."

We make our way back to his flat and climb the stairs to his floor. I open his door and let him in. I follow him to the loo, and he knows exactly where to find the peroxide and the gauze to disinfect his wounds. He needs no help, but I insist. I make him sit on the loo and very gently clean all the blood from his face and his knuckles severely bruised.

"I am not a porcelain doll. You can be more firm." He says and practically laughs at me.

"I just don't want to hurt you." I breathe out and crosses his sight a second before I put all the soiled gauze in the bin.

He gets up once I am done and opens a drawer full of makeup. I definitely frown and look at it thoroughly. They are all skin-toned creams. He takes one of the bottles out and spurts a little out to spread on his face to hide the redness of his nose. He barely winces, which hints that it isn't his first rodeo, but it also alarms me. To have such a collection of concealer and foundation creams, he must be used to being bruised like that. It's sick. He does the same with his hands, covering his heavily scarred hands from any fresh bruise.

When he turns around, it's as if nothing has ever happened, that he didn't just get assaulted by I don't know what or whom. I don't even have a clue about what happened!

"Will you tell me what happened?" I rush out to now get some answers.

"Good morning to you too." He says and leaves the loo as if I didn't witness all that.

"Well, my morning isn't really pleasant so far, so why don't you ease my mind and tell me now what happened. We both know you will end up telling me I am stubborn like that. So save us some time and cut to the chase." I let out as I followed him to his bedroom, taking off his dirty clothes.

"Whoa! Calm down. Why do you even bother? I am here now!" He retorts arrogantly, mirroring my attitude, but it pisses me off.

"Sorry if I care that you are hurt. That's something I am not as used to as you clearly are." He takes out a polo but throws it on the bed before he faces me with a smirk. "Am I amusing you?"

"You are." His dimples dig his cheeks deeper as he hooks an arm quickly around my waist and lifts me to lay me on his bed. He hovers entirely over me, straddling me in what feels like three seconds. His lips don't seem to be hurt at all as he consumes me with his kiss, rushing his sudden lust or whatever on me.

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