So, instead, I just watched in silence as he filled the bowl with water and then reached for a cloth that was hanging on a hook. The window over the sink allowed moonlight to pool in enough that I could make out small details. That was until he flipped aswitch on the wall near the door as he passed when making his way back to me. My eyes squinted slightly as lights under the cabinets came on, showing dark countertops, a huge range stove, a twin door, fridge freezer, and not a single item that would have added personality. I mean, he was either a clean freak or hardly ever used this space.
The stoneware bowl was placed down next to me but as my eyes rose from it, I couldn’t help but suck back a startled breath because I could see him in much more detail now. And he was surprisingly…
Breathtakingly handsome.
Well, at least the side of his face that I could see anyway. His eyes were no longer glowing silver, they were now an unusual dark blue color. So dark, I had originally thought they were black. But this close up, I could see the blue more clearly. A midnight blue, in fact, and they were strangely mesmerizing.
The dark slash of his brows only added to their intensity, as did the darkened skin around them. His hair was also long. A thick, black mane that was shaved at the sides. Hair that was pulled back into a man bun with straps easily seen across the shaved parts, that I gathered kept his half mask in place. His strong jawline was so cut, it looked carved from granite. The light dusting of black stubble wasn’t enough to hide the defined lines, or enough to take way from his full lips.
His mask didn’t exactly cover half of his face, just most of one side as the folds of leather seemed to mold around his manly features. It covered the whole right side of his cheek, half his forehead, and around his eye, but left his nose and lips bare. And although I couldn’t see what was beneath, I could guess. The right side of his lips were slightly darker, with the same branches of darkness creeping up the side of his nose and around the edges of the mask, as if whatever he was trying tohide was slowly creeping further across his face, unwilling to be contained.
“You can stop staring now,” he stated in a hard tone, with an even harder glare. One that instantly made me look down at my lap as my cheeks heated from embarrassment.
Which was also when I could see just how much of a mess I was. My dress was torn in random places, with most of the top part now stained with blood. I didn’t know at what point I had lost my shoes, but my feet were filthy. Basically, I was a state, and even my hair was everywhere, having received the rough treatment from that asshole mobster and his goon. But as if mirroring my own thoughts, he stated harshly,
“You’re a mess.”
I flinched, but it didn’t deter him from dipping the cloth in the bowl of water and bringing it to my face.
“What are you doing?” I asked, pulling back.
“What does it look like I am doing? I am cleaning you up.”
I frowned in question before speaking my mind.
“But why?” The part I left out was, why do you care?
“Because I need to see if you have any other injuries, that’s why, and all of this blood is distracting and pissing me off. Now hold still, girl!” he snapped, which was when I found my anger as I reached for the cloth and told him,
“I can do it… oh.”
The sigh that cut off this argument was because I had gripped his hand and felt a strange buzz connect to me in a way I couldn’t ignore. And neither could he, because he froze instead of yanking himself free.
But when his eyes slowly lifted from our hands to my own surprised gaze, I realized it wasn’t an expression he mirrored. Because he didn’t look shocked, despite knowing that he had felt it too. I didn’t know how I knew this, I just did.
It was like a calm acceptance. One that continued as he reached across to where our hands remained connected. Then in a gentle way, he gripped the top of my hand and slowly pulled it from his. A hand he lowered to my lap so he could continue what he had been about to do before I stopped him.
He palmed the back of my neck to hold me still, before he brought the wet cloth to my cheeks. His actions were surprisingly gentle for such a giant of a man, but I couldn’t help hissing at the sting. I must have cut my cheek when I was hit. I also had one close to my hair line on my forehead, that was most likely from falling after being knocked out in the van. Even the cut on my lip stung as he cleaned this as well.
He didn’t speak, but his jaw tensed when I showed discomfort. As for the bite on my neck, this had healed, thanks to his actions back at the warehouse. Although, it was still soaked in blood, so that was where he concentrated his efforts next.
First, he cleaned the cloth before ringing it out in just one fist. I was strangely fascinated by his hands as water flowed through his fingers. But then he gripped the back of my neck in that large palm once more, applying pressure to get me to tilt my head to the side so he could clean away the blood.
When he rinsed the cloth, the water turned pink and again, I watched silently as the droplets dripped down his hand and wrist when he brought it back to my neck. However, the second that cloth started to work its way further down my bare shoulder and chest, my breath left me. I swear I also saw his chest rise and fall quicker as his breathing grew heavier.
It was as if he was trying to hold himself back or something. To remain detached as he worked. Yet I could imagine, if he was a Vampire, then being so close to blood must affect him. Making me wonder if this was the reason he was so tense.
Something I would never know, because as soon he was finished, he simply dropped the cloth in what was now crimson-stained water and told me,
“That’s the best I can do for now.” Then he pushed the bowl aside, making me force down the lump that had formed there before replying.
“Thank you.”
He seemed surprised and his gaze shot to mine as if questioning if I had really just thanked him. As if this was a foreign experience for him and he was now questioning when the last time someone had thanked him for anything.
I didn’t know where all that had just come from, but I felt it, all the same, and just from a single look. In the end, his response in return was a slight dip of his head, as if silently saying you’re welcome.
He then reached for the black metal box and pulled it closer. He unlatched it and flipped the lid, showing me an array of medical supplies. I then watched in silence as he picked two adhesive bandages, one on the smaller side for my cheek and the other for the cut at my forehead. He also got out two rolls of bandages, a pot of something, and some tape.
