𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀

11.

"I hate you." I glared at the tall man who gave me an awkward smile, slowly wiping his soaked hands on his dirty white shirt.

"It's just a bit." He shrugged and I widened my eyes at the audacity to say that after he messed up the kitchen island after I just cleaned the area.

"You look like Carrie," I spat out, grabbing a clean cloth as I dashed it in his direction. "Clean it up." I snapped, eyeing the messy footprints he treaded inside with him.

"You don't even wanna know?" He asked and I rolled my eyes, as if I'm not used to this.

"No," I shook my head, leaning against the counter as I watched him clean up his mess, slowly but he was doing it. "Ajax, a little faster." I narrowed my eyes. "Don't act like a rookie." I sighed as I shook my head at the mess behind him. "And how many did you kill, Jesus." I muttered and he pursed his lips.

"About that." He grabbed the hem of his shirt before lifting it, a gash on the side of his torso oozing with his warm blood, trickling down his tan skin and I moved forwards instantly.

"Idiota!" I flicked his forehead and he winced. This is why he's moving so slow and the blood on his shirt is mainly his. "Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt, I'll get the first aid kit." I shook my head at why he didn't bother telling me before.

He didn't say a word, nodding as he headed out the kitchen and me on the way to find the kit.

"Man child." I muttered as I now entered the bathroom to see him sitting on the counter, his shirt off as the blood trickled down the pits of his abs, splotches of blood on his skin, tinting the tattoos on his body.

"I'm--" He yawned. "--so tired." He muttered as he rested his head back on the mirror, his adam's apple prominent as he rubbed his stubbled jaw.

"Don't close your eyes." I told him sharply, grabbing the necessary equipment.

Ajax took this well, a wince leaving his mouth here and there, other than that he was pretty calm, even when I stitched him up.

"Now that that's done," I looked up at his drained and tired face. "Lemme clean that cut up." I pointed at his eyebrow, now that's definitely gonna scar but it'll look cool, so there's that.

"You have a very gentle hand."

"Thank you." I whispered as I focused more on cleaning up his wound.

"I appreciate it, Amara," He whispered back, his eyes closed as he swung his dangling legs about like a child.

I smiled softly, not saying anything as I carried on.

It was pure silence until I felt a cold chill sliver up my spine. Fuck.

"What are you doing here?" Luis's cold voice filled the comfortable room, now suddenly I don't wanna be here.

However, with Ajax's presence, it's not half as bad.

"To inform you the deal with whatever-their-name-is went wrong," Ajax told him, his eyes still closed and composed. "Motherfuckers got me good." He muttered and I guess Luis can see that.

"And Amara was the only one to clean you up?" His voice reeked with jealousy so evidently, it was pretty suffocating in his tone.

"I offered," I interrupted. "I can do this in my sleep." Poor Ajax, Luis could be a little nice to him. "Anyway, we're done here." I moved back, my eyes glancing at Luis through the mirror and I clenched my jaw; his body so casually leaned against the door frame, both hands in his trouser pocket as his suit jacket slung on one of his arms.

I noticed the redness in his eyes, tiredness so obvious in them, his hair not gelled anymore but a wavy mess -- that he seemed to pull off -- and his eyes on me. Not in the usual intimidating way he looks at me but soft.