Emperor of Mayhem

f o r t y

//  T H E  M O S T  W A N T E D \\

The new soldier stationed at our window angle was handsome to say the least. He made my habit of aimlessly standing by the window because it was my only peek into the outside world, less depressing and more entertaining...if appealing was sending off another meaning.

And though he was ruggedly handsome, tattooed and carried this warrior-like grace and precision, something to make a girl like me swoon, I wasn't exactly attracted to him. I was just curious about him. Of course, staring wouldn't piece together whatever puzzle he was. I just thought it could at least give me a hint. 

I had woken up from a three months coma to find out that amongst everyone else in the house, I seemed to be a different breed. Everyone either had skin as white as glacier milk, or like burnt Sienna. But mine, however, was completely different. The difference between my skin tone and Mikhail's favorite black T-shirt was very slim. I often wondered whether I fell into a burning flame and survived.

And just when I gave up thinking why I was the way I was, I looked through the window one day and saw someone exactly like me. 

A soldier with dark skin.

Unlike other men with lengthy hair, his was cut very close to his skin and styled like the waves of the sea. His imperial grey eyes were sharp, never resting on one dimension for more than a millisecond. He was calculative and very agile, seeming to know his job more than the rest I had seen.

I kept wondering if he might have known me. Maybe he was my brother. I mean, there could be millions of people in the world, and maybe those like me were just like twenty or maybe two. I hoped he could have known me. 

I wondered if he knew me.

"You're always staring at him." 

I didn't even know when Mikhail rose from his study desk until I felt his front press against my back as he looked over me. And before I could acknowledge his closeness, I saw two arms wrap around my waist in a possessive manner, before his chin dropped on the crown of my head, "Why?"

"No reason in particular." I shrugged at him, "Though I think he's actually good-looking."

I felt him tense slightly, his hold tightening but he chuckled casually to cover up his evident act of jealousy.

"You're right." He said quite cynically, "Doyle is actually not so bad looking."

"His eyes are pretty." I added just to rile him up.

"I can let you go talk to him," he offered generously but I sensed a 'but' coming in the way so I didn't celebrate just yet, "But I can't promise I won't put a bullet to his head before you get there."

And there it was. The consequences for his offer.

His cell phone that was tucked in his pocket pinged with a notification which vibrated against me. It had been doing that all day but he was working on something so he never bothered to check it.

Pulling off one hand from my waist, he slid it into his pocket but before he could fetch the phone, many more notification sounds were heard. I wondered who was texting him like that. I didn't think he had any friend in particular that would be bugging him so much.

I heard him growl in a low voice when three came in consecutively as he finally swiped the phone out. There was about a three seconds lap before he uttered, "Huh? Tiktok?" 

I quickly whirled around, his other hand falling off my waist.

"Those are from Tiktok?" I demanded outrightly. He didn't reply. He had been confused still, his eyes bouncing between me and the phone. I snatched the phone from his hold to look at it.