𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍 (18+)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 - 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

Cleo.
The Apartment.
06:30

*sexual content ahead

My body is submerged in the warm water of the tub as I exhale lightly. The muscles in my shoulders ache, my head was ringing, and my eyes sting at the luminescent light of the bathroom. My lips pursued as I continue to take calm yet reassuring breaths to relax before my comfort was interrupted by a slight knocking on the door.

"Yes!"

Rose answered, "Uh, Dr. Jackson is at the door. Want me to let him in or tell him to shoo like the annoying pest he is?"

I laugh at her recoil before answering, "Let him in. Be nice. I'll be out in a couple of minutes." My answer caused her to grunt, which I heard from outside the door as I reached over for my loofah and soap.

It's 6 in the morning, surely he has a shift today. I wonder why he came over...

Momentarily, I got out of the tub after a good washing before putting on a new set of scrubs I had placed on the vanity of the sink. Once I was put together, I opened the door of the bathroom to walk into the small, minuscule living room where Michael and Rose were. Of course, he greeted me with a sly smile as I look over to see Rose shoving a donut in her mouth.

"Ay! Mykol baru som food!" she exclaims with food in her mouth.

He chuckles casually as I walk over to the box of donuts he brought as I teased, "What? Tired of eating at the cafeteria alone?" It wasn't my fault that I continued to skip our little lunch and breakfast dates, blame the patients that decide to suffer from anaphylactic shock or something even more extreme like myocardial infarction.

He shots back, "Hey. I choose to eat alone, but...today I brought the food here and there's something I do need to talk to you about."

Before I could answer, Rose interrupts, "Well you look at the time! I have to go scrub in for this gingivitis case!" I watch as she grabs one more donut before rushing out of the apartment, giving me and Michael some space together.

I exhale slowly before walking to the open kitchen to open one of the cabinets, grabbing a mug, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

He chuckles, "No, I just want you to come here."

At his request, my cheek flushed to a lighter shade of pink. He was so goddamn annoying. Every inch of him, from his snap remarks, his sarcasm, and his teasing, but even now I could hear his voice laced with affection and desire of my presence.

I walk out of the kitchen with my arm folded as I answer, "What is it?" He was standing over the couch with a small yet casual smile on his face. The 'default' Michael looks as I would say. He sighs calmly as his arms open out to me, "Come here." I shuffle my feet closer to him with a suspicious look on my face as finally gave in and slide into his embrace. My head rested on his chest as his fingers rest against my scalp, allowing his digits to graze around my braids.

"I'm firing you."

Immediately, my head shot up as I pushed away from him, "What?!"

He frowns at my reaction as he repeats himself, this time, slowly, "I'm ... firing ... you. Do you not understand English?"