Property Of Vittore Martinelli ✓

23

Guys writer's block is real. I've had 0 ideas these past few days but I couldn't leave you hanging. I hope you enjoy this. 

23

I took a bite of the chicken sandwich I had just made. The kitchen was silent because I was the only one around. I mean, it was 2am. I just got a little hungry and came down to eat.

It's been two days since Alexa was supposed to find out more about me but she still had to stick to my side like Vittore wanted so I didn't escape. She hadn't had a chance to go out of the estate as far as I was concerned and all phone calls were monitored in one of the secret rooms I'd found yesterday, hiding from security.

They had gone a little crazy when they didn't find me so that was amusing on my side. I picked up my cup of juice, drowning half of it. Who knew how much I'd missed food. The "safe house" usually gave the girls nutritious snack bars that had white wrapping paper. They were one of the reasons I hated white.

The snack bars were filled with all the nutrients our bodies needed and we were constantly fed water. Being healthy sucks. I'd rather chaw down on fast food and home cooked meals for the rest of my life.

My peace was disturbed when someone walked into the kitchen from the door behind me. I sighed and just ignored their presence, giving my sandwich all my attention. The person walked past me, the strong scent of masculine cologne filling my nose. It wasn't bad. It actually smelt really really really nice.

I looked up, only to be surprised when Vittore sent me a glance over his shoulder. His naked shoulder. God where was this man's bloody shirt?

He was dressed in black basketball shorts and covered in sweat. He walked over to the coffee machine and started brewing himself a cup but I couldn't stop staring at his tattooed back. My mind couldn't really decipher the images that were permanently inked onto his smooth tanned skin but they looked perfect on him.

Vittore opened one of the cupboards, reaching for a bunch of cups and my eyes watched his every movement, mostly gazing at how the muscles in his arms and back flexed with his smooth movements. I also noticed his hands were wrapped in bandages so he must have been boxing. If there was a gym in this estate, it was the next place I was finding.

Vittore continued what he was doing and I stared shamelessly, picking up my juice and drowning the whole glass. The smell of coffee filled the air and the sound of a filling cup reached my ears. It wasn't long until the man who was a constant thought in my mind turned around.

His hair stuck to his forehead because it was wet and his chest was dotted with beads fo sweat. His dark eyes never left my own but I let mine wander. I spotted a few scars that littered his body and I wanted to ask how he got each one. That would be a little weird even for me so I kept silent.

My admiration came to a stop when he slid a cup of coffee to me. I looked down at the steaming mug and then up at Vittore with a raised eyebrow. He stared back, seemingly unfazed, cradling his own cup.

"This is poisoned," I stated the obvious, pushing the cup away from me.

Vittore shrugged and slid his cup to me instead, bringing mine closer to him. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"This could be poisoned too," I said. I'd done this before once. During training, I was required to poison one of the subjects. I have him the un-poisoned cup and he obviously didn't trust me so he took mine instead.

He had a slow painful death.

Vittore sighed and took a sip from the cup he had before and placed it in front of me. He also took a sip from the other cup. I watched him for a second before sliding the coffee cup closer to me. At least we'd die together if shit went South. My sandwich was long gone which I honestly was sad about but I had coffee now.