In recent days, Maxwell had been...nicer, if you call it that. It was more like he ignored more of the times she broke the rules, like being out of the room longer than an hour a day, or cooking in the kitchen. But, she never stayed in the same room as him, and she never came to his office, where he spent most of his time.
Sometimes in his office, he could hear the soft taps of her feet across the wooden floor, stealing a bag of chips from his kitchen cupboards and snacking on it while watching television in the living room. Her meals recently had been massive, and dense in carbs, and he insisted to watch as she ate, scrolling through his phone on the lounge chair across the room from her bed, where she sat nibbling on whatever he had supplied her, glancing at him every now and then with the shadow of a scowl.
She knew she was skinny, but perhaps it had turned into the norm. Years alone, broke on top of that, meant that meal skipping was a given, if she had to skip meals to pay her rent, or to buy dog food for Zuni, she would do it, and the meals she did have consisted of noodle cups from the dollar store and canned ravioli. Didn't men like skinny girls? that's what all the magazines screamed. She had no idea why he was so insistent, expecting every noodle of spaghetti eaten and even the side bread to her salad. She had the urge more than once to snap and ask, Do I look like a slaughtering pig to you? leave me the fuck alone!
But, she never got up enough courage. So, she settled with shouting it in her head, glaring at him with hooded eyes as she ate every last noodle from the Mac and cheese he had basically thrown her direction the second he yanked open the door to her bedroom with the plate in his hands. Her days without Zuni had been sad, but the vet had been keeping Maxwell updated, who would pass on the information to her.
They were more concerned about Zuni because of her age, insisting she stay a little bit longer just to make sure she was in perfect shape to leave. Early signs of kidney disease, and her eyes were so thick with cataracts she was basically blind, it made sense with how often Harmony caught her accidentally running into the bed or the coffee table in their old place. She had dog proofed all the corners in her room by cutting up one of the useless decorative pillows that she was forced to contend with on the bed, call it revenge. She taped pieces of it on all the corners of the furniture, making sure that there was at least a bit more of a soft surface if she ran into them in the future. Maxwell didn't seem to care, she suspected he wasn't the kind of guy that freaked out about decorative pillows to begin with, as for a pistol missing from its hanging spikes in the hallway downstairs, she suspected that would be a different story, but she didn't blame him for that. Although, their reasons for getting upset about a missing pistol would probably be different.
They stayed out of each other's hair for the most part, more like roommates than victim and kidnapper. Things were going well, at least in comparison to previous times, which was a pretty low bar to clear but it counted for something, right? That was, until he caught her in his small library, trying to reach a book that had intrigued her on an upper shelf.
"What are you doing?" he sounded irritated, and stopped trying to reach for it, turning around to look at him over her shoulder.
"I wanted something to read" she responded
"I didn't give you permission to be in here" She turned away from him, rolling her eyes where he wouldn't see it. "Go up to your room, paint something" she inwardly scoffed, meeting his annoyed stare with her own of the same emotion.
"My urge to paint comes and goes" she responded simply, rubbing her shoulder to be-rid of the forming bumps across her skin, caused by his presence within her sight "I just wanted to-"
"Out!" he didn't even let her finish before speaking over her, gesturing her out of the room.
"If I could only-" her tiny voice tired
"I said OUT!" he barked "Or I'll drag you out!" her eyes widened. So many times, this guy had yelled at her, had accosted her, she was fucking sick of it. Her need to rip his head off had been overtaken by her fear of what he may have done as a result of her insolence. She glanced down only momentarily, towards his belt. No gun.
"No" she spoke simply, crossing her arms against her chest in physical defiance. She watched his eyes widen, rather incredulously.
"What?"
"Is that so hard for you to grasp? or has someone just never denied you whatever you wanted before?" she retorted, and his hands tightened at his sides. "Tell me Maxwell, why should I listen to a single word you say?!" She approached him, determination in her eyes, and he actually took a step back, wide eyes of disbelief. "YOU!" she pointed right at him "AM I PART OF YOUR GANG OF LOWLIVES MAX?!" she snapped, and he wasn't sure if she was legitimately asking him or not, but it became obvious when she opened her mouth again
"NO! I'M FUCKING NOT!" she stomped her tiny foot on the floor in front of him, looking him right in the face. "You have no right to tell me what to do, you never have!" He had to admit, when she lost her shit, it wasn't as funny as he thought it would be.
"YOU'RE NOTHING BUT AN ASSHOLE! AN ALCOHOLIC FUCKHEAD THAT SPENDS HIS DAYS NURSING A GLASS AND FUCKING ANYTHING WITH A HOLE TO FIT YOUR FAT DICK!" she was in a rage now, and as she came forward he backed up, falling up against the opposite wall of the hallway as she snapped at him with fury he didn't even know she was capable of. Her heart raced in her chest, blood pumping a hot red that she might as well have been her own fire, lighting her way right to him so she could continue her assault on all his senses, but paying special attention to his ears.
"YOU HAVE THE EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE AND TEMPER CONTROL OF A FUCKING DONKEY!" poking a hard finger into his chest "I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW YOU LEAD THIS GANG TO BEGIN WITH! YOU'RE NOT EVEN FIT TO RUN A-" She tried, panicking at the darkened hew in his eyes "A-A...A FUCKING KIDS' SPELLING BEE!" granted, that wasn't the best insult she could have come up with.
"YOU ARE BY FAR THE MOST RIDICULOUS PERSON I'VE MET IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! AND I BASICALLY LIVED AT DISNEYLAND WHEN I WAS A KID!" she snapped incredulously
"YOU ARE A PIECE OF SHIT MAXWELL!" she brought her bare foot down on top of his, which did nothing but have her gasp in pain, lifting her leg and hopping in the hallway, cursing. He wore steal-toed boots. He gave her a few minutes to calm down just a smidge, until she stopped hopping like an idiot on her foot and met his eyes
"That library was my mothers before she died-" her eyes widened, glancing at the open door, to the bookshelves "I don't even go in that room...because it's not mine" Ah Fuck. She suddenly felt horrible, but that was Maxwell, just guilt-tripping her into apologizing to him for what she said.
"Fine, you've won this time..." she grumbled in defeat, kicking herself in the ass. I guess he does have some emotional intelligence, just a smidgen.
"She would have hated you" he responded, and she lifted her head, confusion within her orbs "She was always obedient to my father" Well, that's just great. No wonder he expects me to do whatever the fuck he wants.
"But...my history with women suggests they're a bit more complicated than that. So, I'm sure they just ripped each other apart without me being there to witness it" He thought about Bunny, feeling the need to rub his head of the buzzing in his ears. "But, somehow I find the challenging ones more to my liking, if I'm being completely honest" She felt her cheeks redden slightly, not looking him in the face.
"You keep telling me stuff I have no need to know" she responded, crossing her arms against her chest, and that was the moment she realized she wasn't wearing a bra, and her eyes widened accordingly, quick to cover her breasts securely from his eyes.
She tried to get around him in their hallway to go up the stairs, but he was quick to cut off her path, and she was forced up against the wall, caged there would be more accurate to say. To his wondering eyes, the crevice of her neck, the gentle curve of her ear, the way she shook, just slightly, under his scrutinizing eyes, refusing to look at him with her own. He wanted to grab her, he wanted to touch her more than anything, have her scream those insults in his ear as she came by his hand. But, he only let out a heavy sigh, leaning forward just slightly, scenting a light hint of salt from her skin before he drew back, letting her escape. She took the chance the moment it came, hurrying up the stairs and shutting her bedroom door so abruptly, hard enough for him to clearly hear. If she did that on purpose, he didn't know, but it wouldn't surprise him.
Fuck, she's making me lose my goddamn mind!
YOU ARE READING
His Angel
Romance"You have a name, don't you?" his voice was deep and irritable, but rather calm. Her eyes lifted just slightly, now staring at the edges of dark hair that hung an inch or two from his shoulders. Her lack of answer seemed to annoy him further, she co...
