Drake The Notorious Killer.

Mistakes

Sleeping is out of the question, so of course, I choose the next best thing; Exploring.

I venture up the stairs slowly, taking in my surroundings as I explore. It's not modern, nor is it old old. Whoever designed it found the balance in-between and used that perfectly. The rich turquoise walls and dark brown wooden floors contrast like a sunflower, complementing one another too. There's a big grand metal fake candle chandelier at the entrance and the white door looks vintage with its exquisite engraved embellishments. There's reddish brown rugs placed down the middle of the stairs and a larger one sprawled at the entrance.

The stairs leads to a couple doors on the outskirts of a rectangle with a smaller rectangular hole in the middle which gives you a view of the kitchen and living room directly underneath. The wooden and coffee coloured stained banister with white beams plastering the two ends to the floor line the hole and the sides of the staircase. I trail my hand on the walls as I walk.

My hand lingers at a door handle before I grasp and twist it, pushing it open.

I look up slowly.

Fur pelt.

Rustic bed.

Fireplace.

Wooden floor.

Dark reddish brown walls.

Antler chandelier light in the middle of the room.

Then my eyes slowly work their way up Drake's body, only covered in a towel hanging low on his waist. His back is muscular and broad at the shoulders and slim at the waist, his inked tiger entwined with lotus's and lines hugging the curves and dips of his creamy skin. His legs are muscular and thick, carved elaborately with the dexterity and precision of Greek sculptors.

"Was there something you desired?" His alluring voice clears my daze.

"Uh— No! I was just looking around. Sorry, I didn't know you were in here."

"The location of your designated room is opposite mine."

"Thanks." I smile a bit before closing the door quickly and leaning my back onto it, breathing deeply until I get over my mini heart attack. I guess I didn't realize how long I've been here since the door opens suddenly and I stumble into his arms.

"Hayes? You okay there?"

"Wha–yeah yeah. Definitely." I nod vigorously as I look up at his face that's peering down at me with... Concern? I make a move to get up quickly, clearing my throat before standing opposite him.

"Why were you at my door?" His head cocks to the side, strands of wet hair hanging over his face. I gulp.

"Uh... no reason. I was just bored and I couldn't sleep." My words escape fast and rushed, my mouth grasping onto the first things that flit within reach from my brain.

"I see. Would you like to eat something?"

"No no no it's fine."

"I insist. I will make something for you if you are hungry."

"If you're gonna eat too, then sure..."

"Excellent. In that case, you can meet me downstairs in 15 minutes. I'm sure you know where the kitchen is." I nod, still nervous as I curl my toes. He smiles and turns on his heel before walking down the stairs. I let out a breath of air, sagging.

Fuck, that was tough. My feet pad across the wooden floor towards my room before setting my bag down and hopping into the shower. The warm water relaxes my muscles and breasts, washing away the caked blood, easing the bruising colouring them in the shapes of hands and fingertips.