The Assassin and His Boy (BxB)

Chapter Six

Averie's POV

I lingered by the door, unsure of whether or not I should pick the lock and force my way in there to comfort him or let him be. Deciding that the former option would only reinforce his perception that I was an unhinged murdered, I decided to find something else to do with my time instead of scaring away the person I wanted to actually like me.

That was easier said than done.

How could I cook when he was in there in pain?

How could I plan out my next job when he could be crying?

How could I get around to cleaning off the excessive blood in the apartment when he was bleeding?

Well, a voice in the back of my head helpfully chimed in. You were the one who hurt him, and made him cry.

My expression soured. It wasn't supposed to end up with him alone in there, refusing to see me. I had pictured myself gently cleaning the wound, kissing the smooth marks I had left on him.

Because... Because I liked him.

And you decided to show your affection with knives? The voice in the back of my head was being remarkably unhelpful today. I shook it off. When he calmed down, I would explain it to him. Maybe I would have to tie him up, but that wasn't exactly a negative in my book.

I took the forgotten bag of ice cream (how did I let him talk me into that one? Oh yeah, emotional manipulation) and put it in the freezer.

Should I make waffles? Would that cheer him up? I looked through the kitchen, musing to myself, wondering the best way to get into his favors again.

Waffles. Definitely waffles.

By the time he emerged from the shower, the apartment was already filled with the sound of sizzling batter.

"Hungry?" I gave him a sultry grin. "Unfortunately, I'm not on the menu, although I suppose I could make an exception for my favorite customer."

Lucas gave him a look.

Not a 'God, I want to jump in bed with you' look.

Not a 'You're the most attractive man I've ever seen and I'm so happy you dragged me off the streets' look.

More like a 'I am a feral street cat and I will tear out your throat if you give me that look again'.

I would be offended if it didn't turn me on. That probably indicated that something was wired wrong in my brain that I found him so attractive when angry, but on the list of things wrong with me, that probably wasn't the most relevant.

"I'm not hungry," Lucas snapped, but he took a seat at the table with his back turned to me. My lips quirked. Little prick.

However, as my eyes fell to his back, my smile faded. His shirt should've proudly displayed my initials, but he had positioned his shirt to hide them.

I did not like that.

I calmly set the bowl of batter I had been working on back onto the counter. Lucas didn't have the common sense to look scared as a strode up to him, fixing me with those defiant green eyes.

Goddamn. Those eyes would get him killed.

Before he could open his mouth again, I picked him up by the front of his shirt and pushed him against the wall.

"Averie, what are you-?"

"Lucas." I dropped all of the humor out of my voice. His gaze started to waver. "You're the prettiest thing I've seen in a long, long time. And I love that little tongue of yours, maybe a little too much. Your attitude drives me crazy in several ways that are harmful to your health."