Layla
I curl myself on the bed, leaning against the headboard as I hear the water running inside the bathroom. Kellan is taking a shower, and I'm here like a helpless girl.
What should I do?
While I'm hugging my knees, another lone tear falls to my cheek. I miss my family so much. I wonder what Nana and Archer are doing right now.
My phone has been taken from me, and I can't even call them. Even though I can't tell them what happened to me, I just want to hear their voices.
While I'm pondering in my thoughts, Kellan walks out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his torso. The sight makes me let out a gasp, which causes Kellan to snap his head toward me with a scowl on his face.
He glares in my direction, his wet hair hanging loosely on his forehead.
I'm restless because he looks angry again.
"Did I not tell you to make it like you didn't even exist?"he reminds me in irritation.
"You're walking half naked," I counter.
He rolls his eyes.
"It's not my fault that you startled me," I say.
"It's not like I'm going to do something to you—" he stops mid-sentence and growls. "Fine."
It seems that he remembers what almost happened to me tonight. Despite still fuming, he snatches his joggers from the wardrobe and walks back into the bathroom. When he comes back, he's already wearing his pants.
I'm grateful that he didn't get naked and change clothes in front of me because that might make me feel uncomfortable.
I watch as he searches for something inside his wardrobe again. It seems that he's trying to find a T-shirt to wear. His back is facing me, so I can see his massive black wings tattoo again. It indeed looks like actual wings, black with silver streaks, his identity as the king.
I find myself mesmerized by his tattoo again. It's beautiful.
"Stop staring," he snaps, startling me. "I can't see it, but I can feel it."
I sigh, tearing my gaze away from him. I feel his movement toward the bed, and the next thing I know is that he dips into the bed, lying next to me, already wearing a black T-shirt.
He rolls onto his side, facing the opposite direction. "Too bad that there's only one bed in this room, and that there's no fucking couch. Be grateful that I don't kick you out of my bed."
Again, his words sting.
Now that I think about it, he's actually doing something nice, but his words ruin it.
I travel my gaze around his neat bedroom. There's a recliner sofa near the bookshelves and a chair behind the desk, but none of them is suitable for someone to sleep on.
I stare down at myself, at the mess that I am. My clothes are damp because of what happened at the fountain, ruining the bedsheet I'm sitting on. But I don't care. I have no energy to move.
I feel drained, mentally and physically. My body no longer feels cold. Maybe it has been numb for a while.
But then, I can get sick if I stay like this, so I muster all the energy left in me. I get off the bed and walk toward the bathroom.
After locking the door behind me, I take off my damp clothes and toss them onto the floor. I don’t know what I should wear after taking a bath because I don’t have my suitcase with me anymore. My eyes dart to the bathrobe hanging behind the door, and I sigh in relief. I’m just going to wear that in my sleep tonight, although I don’t think that I’ll be able to sleep.
At least, I won’t be walking out of this bathroom naked. Even though my client is blind, I don’t feel comfortable hanging around in his room without clothes.
A clean towel sits on the vanity. I can use that as well.
After stepping into the shower, I turn on the warm water. A sigh leaves my mouth because of how good the temperature feels on my skin. I wash my hair and body gently, thinking about how I can survive the night.