Ares ; A Mafia Romance ||✓

Chapter 11

Callista Miller
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My room felt awfully small with Ares standing in the middle, taking it in. The walls seemed to close in on me, as if trying to confine a personality like Ares's. My room was simple—nothing extravagant or lavish like his. The walls were painted royal blue, with white curtains adorning the large window on the left wall, beside which rested my messy study table, filled with books and my old computer. On the right wall, parallel to the desk, was my small bed covered with Simpsons bedsheets and comforter, and at its foot was the bedside table leading to the room’s door. On the opposite wall hung a small flat-screen TV and some BTS posters, showcasing my love for them. Lastly, the end wall had my wardrobe and the door to the restroom. That was it—my sweet abode, where I spent most of my time thinking about the very person standing in it now.

My heart was racing, struggling to believe Ares was really here and I wasn’t dreaming. My eyes followed him as he walked to my desk, picking up a book or two and inspecting them. Turning around, his eyes found mine, boring into me. My mind finally regained its composure and remembered why we were here in the first place. Thankfully, my parents were out, sparing us from a whole lot of drama. I dashed into the restroom and retrieved the first aid kit I always kept in my room for tending to injuries from bullies.

Ares remained standing against my study table, his stance relaxed. Hesitating slightly, I wondered where to ask him to sit—my chair or my bed? Shrugging, I asked him,

“Please sit on the bed.”

He complied immediately, his gaze fixed on my bedsheets. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment at still using kids' bedsheets, but he didn’t tease me about it. He just remained silent, as he always did. I sat beside him, placing the first aid box between us. Gently taking his right hand in mine wordlessly, I proceeded to disinfect his bruised knuckles and cuts. Thankfully, the injuries were minor—just small cuts. Searching inside the box, I found bandages and, without thinking, applied them to his cuts. Two were needed to cover it properly, and I used small tapes for his knuckles. Smiling to myself, I unconsciously brought his hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to each wound. After finishing, I looked up to see his eyes fixed on me, with his mouth slightly parted. If I didn’t know him by now, I would have thought he looked surprisingly mesmerized. I must be hallucinating.

The gravity of my actions slowly dawned on me. My habit would surely get me into trouble one day. Closing my eyes tightly, I scolded myself for kissing his wounds again, but nothing could change now. Peeking one eye open, I dared a glance at him and saw a strange amusement in his eyes. What? Was I imagining things? Blinking to be sure, I stared at him and still saw amusement on his face, which seemed rigid but, upon closer inspection, had the corners slightly lifted. Maybe he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike and was internally laughing at my silly self. Stupid me! I should apologize to him.

“I am so sorry, Ares. I didn’t really mean to do that. As you know, I have a bad habit, so plea—”

He cut me off.

“Do you always kiss the wounds?”

His curiosity made me blush. The word “kiss” sent a shiver through me, and his deep voice was like a melodious caress. I avoided his gaze, feeling uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. I squirmed, being the center of his attention. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I hastily closed the first aid kit and stood up, saying,

“Yes. Since I was a kid, my mother taught me to do it, and it’s stayed with me.”

I walked to my study table, nervously dumping the kit on it. My heart pounded loudly. My cheeks were still flaming. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but I could feel his eyes on me, making my cheeks burn further and my heart race uncontrollably. I didn’t dare turn around, fearing my heart might explode from the sudden closeness. My eyes landed on a black marker on my table, which I picked up. As I looked at it, I subconsciously spoke, remembering fondly,