𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳. Even being born right next to the cruel and sick crime life never changed the charismatic and positive Mia who wanted to help change the messy world she formed part off.
Becoming a nurse at the age of 25 and joining her d...
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"Good morning." I smile while carefully placing the breakfast on his table.
He is lying against the bed looking straight at the white wall in silence. No sound coming out from him but his soft breathing.
"Good morning." He finally says getting out of wherever place his mind was on.
"How are you feeling this morning? Is the pain any better?" I ask carefully not wanting to disturb him.
His head turns my way, his piercing blue eyes searching for my brown ones. The look in them is as confusing as always, I still can't understand if he hates me or likes me.
"Yesterday I felt like I had been hit by a bus today is more like a truck so I guess it's going better." He replies without any hint of humor.
I watch him for a second not sure of what to say to that statement but nothing feels appropriate so I decide to stick with a rehearsed answer.
"Glad it's getting better." I give him a soft smile and his eyes move down to my mouth for an instant.
"Not going to tell me to take some drugs?" His tone is slightly condescending.
"No." I simply say not giving him the pleasure of entering his rant.
"Cat got your tongue this morning?" He asks humorously catching me off guard.
"I don't enjoy losing my time." I blur out before I can even think about what I'm actually saying and regret it straight away.
His eyes that haven't left me change slightly as I notice the corner of his mouth moving a bit in a vague attempt of a smile. That simple action makes my heart jump inside my chest even if I really don't want him to affect me. But honestly I think that's impossible. This man is the epitome of handsome. Blue eyes, dark hair, that bad boy troubled look. I bet he can make rocks feel nervous around him.
"Touché querida." He switches from English for the first time talking to me and that doesn't help my bumping heart. (Same, dear)
"Would you like anything else before I leave?" I try to forget the way he just made me feel.
"I'm okay." He finally stops looking at me and focuses on his food.
Disappearing from the room I let a heavy breath out once I'm far enough and try to gain my composure back.
Taking care of him is exhausting, physically and emotionally. He is constantly in a bad mood which as I nurse, I understand but Carlos takes it to a whole another level. He is probably the bluntest person I have ever met and his comments make perfect representation of it and even though I might not strike as the type I have to fight against my every nerve not to snap back at him at every second. I have to be professional and leave the thoughts of stamping his food all over his ridiculously handsome face behind.
Moving around the kitchen I get a plate of food for myself. If having to take care of him has a good side it's probably living in this place. It's a huge apartment, beautifully decorated in black, white, and gray. The kitchen is enormous and equipped with the most modern technology, the bathrooms look like spas and my room is almost as big as my house.
