Maisara's pov
"You are so pretty, Maisara."
I drop the blood-soaked alcohol pad into the bin near my feet and look at Felix. He flashes his pearly teeth, his golden orbs twinkling in between his half-closed eyelids.
"From all the events that happened tonight, that's the first thing you come up with to tell me?" I ask opening a one-time bandage and placing it over the small cut on his wrist.
"Yes. Because that's true." He licks his lips with his eyes fixed on me. I nod mumbling a small thanks.
He's heavily drunk. I could smell the alcohol even when we were in the middle of the fight. But at that time, I didn't think that it was coming from him. Now, as we are alone in this enclosed bathroom with that damn scent of alcohol wrapping around us like a blanket, I can say for sure that it's coming from him.
So, I shouldn't take seriously whatever he says tonight, not, at least, until he's sober. Which is exactly what I'm doing.
Taking another clean alcohol pad from the box, I look back at him and resist the urge to wince at the sight of him. He's still smiling at me, all bruised and bandaged, still no closer to that polished-looking Felix but, of course, looking better than before. His blood-stained shirt is hanging over his shoulder. The upper front part of his body is bare and luckily he doesn't have any deep cuts there. A bruise has started blooming under his collarbone and I have taken care of that.
I have been trying my best to not check him out as I don't want to appear as a creep for sexualizing an injured human being. But it's hard not to notice the sculpted contours of his shoulders, chest, and abs.
It's not like he looks like some handsome Greek God or some Hollywood movie actor. But he definitely looks much better than any regular normal guy. Maybe that's because of the defined edges of his collarbones or maybe because of the detailed lines of his abs or maybe because of—
I shake my head so fast trying to shoo away the thought.
What the fuck was I doing?
"What are you doing?" Felix whispers softly with a tint of amusement in his voice. I can't say whether it's the effect of alcohol or it's because his sane self has actually noticed what I am doing.
"Cleaning your wounds and bandaging you up apparently?" I look him in the eyes so that my eyes don't get the chance to betray me and start trailing down his body. The dreamy look in his eyes and the madness in them are enough to pull out a disappointed sigh from me.
"I know that. I wanna know why are you shaking your head suddenly?" He asks slowly. I stand up from the chair and walk to his right side all the while muttering, "That's none of your business."
Don't do that. Don't do that. Don't do that.
As always, I ignore the warning in my head and hover over him. He tilts his head to the side and looks up at me. And that's when I realize why I shouldn't have ignored that warning.
I've never really looked at his face from this close. Hence, I have never really noticed how handsome he is. Haven't I just said that he doesn't look like some handsome Greek God or some Hollywood movie actor? Well, fuck it. He looks a hundred times better than them.
His highlighted hair is covering his forehead, the tips of them have regained their color as I have washed the blood away from them and his forehead earlier. The wet tips are sticking to his forehead and eyebrows now. His dark eyebrows are nicely shaped above his eyes as if someone has perfectly plucked them. His lashes are not dramatically long but they are beautifully curled.
As he's looking upwards at me, his eyelids are wide open. Black pupils are surrounded by golden brown iris with the borders being black. I can see my reflection in those black pupils like I'm staring at a mirror. A soft breath releases my mouth subconsciously.
His nose is crooked a little on the tip which I assume is by birth and not really created from Ryker's punch. I mean I have checked thoroughly and it doesn't seem like that. His nose has stopped bleeding long ago, presumably during the fight. He has a one-time bandage on the bridge of the nose. A similar one adorns his right side cheekbone as well. His cheekbones are high but he has kinda puffy cheeks that make me want to pinch them.
Lastly, his perfectly defined lips. His upper lips are graced with a distinctive shaped cupid's bow while the lower ones are sculpted with a subtle curve. They are a warm shade of pink, with a subtle hint of red that makes them look velvety. I wonder what they would feel like under my fingertips if I trace them with my fingers. I wonder—
I watch as they part and move so slowly and elegantly. Seconds later, I hear it. "What are you looking at, Maisara?"
And the realization of what I'm doing hit me like a brick in the face. That's it. I'm a creep and a pervert who's checking out the pretty face of an injured man and thinking how it would feel to touch his lips.
"I'm checking if you have any more injuries." Even I'm surprised how easily the lie rolls out of my tongue. I raise my hand but before it can touch his face, he suddenly grabs a hold of it.
I gulp down the gasp threatening to leave my mouth. My eyes fall back to his light ones. They flicker again under the orange-ish light of the bathroom. They still have the same dreamy look in them, mixed with that craze, the effect of alcohol. But the growing intensity in them is a new addition.
"You're finding me attractive, aren't you?" His almost inaudible whisper sends a series of goosebumps through my body. In some other environments, I probably won't have this much effect by those words. Heck, I won't have any effect at all.
But now, here, under dull light and the confined bathroom space, standing so close to an injured and drunk Felix with his wild gaze on me, I do feel the effect of his words on me quite briefly. I find myself at a loss for words for quite a few seconds.
"Maisara," he whispers my name this time and that somehow snaps me out of my daze. I pull my hand out of his hold and use it to push his soft hair out of his forehead to reveal a deep gash that has only just stopped bleeding. The cut is not long but it is wide.
"Like I said, I was searching for some additional wounds," I say with a much louder and stronger tone as I gently dap the alcohol pad on the small red droplets that have started forming there. In response, he hisses when the pad makes contact with his skin.
"But you find me handsome at least, don't you?" he intervenes again as I start wrapping the bandage around his head over and over. When I'm sure the wound is covered, I secure the bandage before stepping back several safe feet away from him before answering, "I was only checking for wounds, Mr. Reyes."
I turn around and start placing the things I used back into the emergency kit all the while saying, "I tried my best to clean you up and bandage. Luckily, none of the cuts seem that deep. And for your nose, I'm quite positive it's not broken. But my advice will be to go see a doctor for tomorrow, just to be safe. Other than that, I think you are good for the night. Go to bed and sleep. Goodnight, Felix."
I don't turn around to glance at him. The air in here is suddenly too thick for me to breathe. It's better for me if I just leave. I take the box and turn my back to him. As I step out of the bathroom, I hear his voice floating behind me, sounding like a voice people only hear in their dreams, "But I do find you quite attractive, Miss Maisara."
No comments:
Post a Comment