• Ilsa Morgan •
There was a sharp knock that rang through the apartment, ripping me from the depths of my sleep. I growled, not even remembering when I had finally fallen asleep. My head throbbed slightly, the darkening of dusk filtering through the curtains.
I must have been tired.
With a slow, deliberate stretch, I rose frok the bed, stifling a yawn that threatened to take over my entire face. My bare feet met the cool floor as I shuffled toward the door, curiosity nudging me awake.
I opened it...and there was no one.
Frowning, I stepped back, letting the door clock softly behind me.
Maybe it had been a delivery? Or just some stray noise from the hall. I shook my head, my thoughts fuzzy from sleep, and began walking down the passage, the apartment quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator.
As I turned the corner and stepped into the lounge, I froze.
The room looked… neat, impossibly neat compared to before. The scattered clothes were gone. The teetering pile of books had been straightened. Even the half-empty cups and cans seemed to have vanished. My gaze swept across the lounge, lingering on the kitchenette that divided the space, everything appearing almost… orderly.
Wait. Did Eric do this?
Before I could gather my thoughts, I noticed him, standing at the far doorway, carrying a couple of takeaway bags. His smirk hit me before his voice did.
"Are you done sleeping?" he asked casually, walking further into the lounge.
I tilted my head at him, incredulous. "Did you… do all this?" I motioned to the tidy lounge, my voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.
He forced a smirk, shrugging with a nonchalance that didn't quite hide his amusement. "Why? Is there something wrong with that? This place looked like a hellhole… had to do a few touches."
I blinked, caught off guard, and for a moment, I just stared. A small, genuine smile crept onto my lips. "Well… I have to admit. At least you're good at something other than being an idiot."
He chuckled, placing the bags on the counter. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Good," I said. "What do you have in the plastic?"
"I don't even know, to be honest." Eric said. "Just some Chinese food I ordered. Figured I'd starve to death if I waited for you to wake up."
I cocked an eyebrow. "How did you even know that I was sleeping?"
He ran a hand through the unruly hair. "Well. I knocked on your door a few times, and you didn't pick up....so I opened to see if you were inside and there you were, lying on your bed like a desperate angel."
My cheeks flared with heat. "You can't be serious."
"I wish I was joking, but it's unfortunate how I'm not."
I gritted my teeth with frustration. Was he really that much of a stalker? What if I was naked or something? "I'll just pretend I didn't hear that part."
"Why? Are you afraid?" he purred.
"Of course I am," I told him. "I mean, you're the guy I met a few hours ago, I hardly know you and you're refusing to give back my panties. What do you expect?"
That earned him a smirk. "For starters, I expect you to invite me to your bed anytime of the night. You seemed pretty desperate."
"Or I can just lock the door while I'm at it," I said.
"Good luck with that," he said. "Before I forget, I have something I'd want to ask you."
"It better not be something perverted."
"I wish it was," he said to me. "Where will I sleep? I just figured you only have one bedroom, so where will I sleep?"
For the first time, I felt like I had power over him. I held back a smirk, my eyes never leaving his. "You can use the couch, or the floor. It's all yours."
"You don't honestly mean that," he warned.
"Actually, I do." I ran a hand through my hair, feeling that electrifying sensation of dominion. "I live alone, and I'm not married.... so what do you expect?"
Eric was silent for a while. "We can both share your bedroom."
"Hahaha, very funny."
"I'm serious," he said. "I can't sleep on a couch."
"You're gonna have to get used to it." I stated.
"Sure," he rolled his eyes, clearly bored.
I doubted if he was even paying attention to anything I was saying. I watched him with careful eyes, taking note of every single detail. He was taking out his takeaway, with very gentle hands, as if it was something that could easily break.
Suspicious, I thought.
How could he be this gentle with something that wasn't even fragile? Yet so careless with his words?
"Do we have any plans for tomorrow?" Eric asked.
I had almost forgotten. "Right. I'll have to schedule all of my events for tomorrow, since you're now part of my routine."
"What do you mean? " he cocked a brow.
"You're coming with me to the office." I said dryly.
He almost laughed. "And do what? You can always leave me here. I don't mind."
That was a real no. Does he honestly think I'm that stupid, to that degree of letting him stay alone, in my apartment? If he is bold enough to deny me access to my panties, what good will it be leaving him alone? "No. You're coming with me to the office. I can't risk letting you out of my sight, not even for a second, until your father returns."
That earned me a smirk from him. I watched his playful eyes meet mine, mischief floating like starlight. "Are you by any chances trying to say that I've suddenly become the centre of your attention?"
"That's not what I mean," I hissed. I could feel heat spreading across my cheeks, but I stood my ground. He needed to learn to be respectful. "Make sure that by seven o'clock, you'll be done with your preparations. I have a lot of things to do tomorrow.... Before your father kills me."
"I'm not a morning person."
"It doesn't matter," I said.
"To you it doesn't, but to me it does." I watched his lips spread open, chopsticks holding between them veggies that he dropped into his mouth. His lips wrapped around the chopsticks, smoothly, like he was trying to comfort them with his tongue.
I gulped.
"And besides, its our company," he continued, that tangible smirk back on his terribly handsome face. "I don't see the need for you to rush. We can leave whenever we want."
"You'll get me fired." I hissed.
"Of course not. Didn't father tell you to take care of me?" he asked.
"Sort of." I agreed.
"Good." Eric ran a hand through his unruly hair, the curls wrapping around his brown skin like tentacles. "Because, whatever plans you had for the day, I'm not interested."
"I don't see any reason why I should be listening to you," I said. "You're definitely not my boss."
"Of course I'm not, darling," his words were like a pur, soft and mesmerizing, I wanted him to say 'darling' again. Tch- Get your head back in the game, Ilsa. Now is definitely not the time.
"I better get sleeping, see you tomorrow morning." I said.
"Sleeping already?" He narrowed his eyes.
"I have to prepare my stuff for the morning."
He smirked, "I guess that classifies you under the boring type."
"I guess it's because our intellectual capacities are different, Mr Bolton," I suddenly said that, and his eyes lit up, brows arching above his eyes when I called him, Mr Bolton. It was either he hated that, or I simply caught him off guard.
*
After our small banter, I went back to my bedroom, locked myself inside and started eating the mangolian chicken he had ordered. But deep down, I wondered if his lips also tasted as good as—
Caleb
Right, I knew I was forgetting someone.