𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ᴛ ᴡ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ ʏ

We have reached the 20 chapter mark!! if you have made it up to here thank you so much i love you all <3 omg someone told me ch3 was before ch2 sorry guys!! and thank you. 

Without further adieu, enjoy this chapter...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

GRISHA V. PETROV

When I was seventeen my father put me in charge of telecommunications for when they went on the godforsaken mission to end the feud once and for all. And I got distracted.

What I'm trying to say is...

I shouldn't have hired her. Not when, every time I wake up with her sight in front of me I just want to put my lips to hers and show her everything about her I'm addicted to.

How when she tells any of us off, she can never stay mad for long. Or how she talks a lot when she hasn't got much on her mind. Sometimes she stress-talks too.

But everyone knows that about her, I'm not anything special. When I met her, I could feel my pupils dilate and consume my irises by just hearing her voice. The voice of a muse.

Her soft hair is all over the pillow, the smell of her sweet hair all over my senses is what wakes me up in the mornings. In the mornings her dark olive skin always tends to be a little red around the cheeks and dented with the pillow creases.

She's one heavy sleeper. I've heard her sleep talk a lot. It's gibberish mostly, with an odd few sniffles and full blown conversations.

"Happy birthday, Judice!" she shrieks, causing me to immediately wake.

"What the fu–"

Her voice is suddenly more docile, with a teary edge. "It was yesterday? I-I'm sorry."

I can't help but crack a smile. She's just screamed the randomest bullshit almost making me fall out of bed and here she is making me smile. I've undoubtedly gone berserk. Mad even.

"Forgive me," she pleads. She kicks me in the leg. Twice. "Reply, goddammit!"

And she bursts into sobs.

I get confused a lot when this happens, but I can't help but feel my heart downturn.

To contain her, I pull her towards me, her back to my chest. I wonder if she feels my chest move when we're this close. She's the only one to make this heartless don turn into one with a heart.

Wrapping an arm around her front, I press my face into her hair and whisper, "Shh."

Whenever my nose touches her neck, she quietens, as if she's been conditioned to have this response.

She won't remember this, though. I can't decide if that's good or not.

It probably is good, because I'll be damned if it's not.

Her eyes flutter awake and she groans, turning onto her side curling inwards. She takes a poor glimpse at the clock.

8:03 am

"Why are you up so early?" she complains, rubbing her eyes and arching her back in a stretch.

I try not to focus on her when she wakes up, the way her toes curl in and her back lifts off the bed- not in a demonic way. Her shirt always manages to ride up her stomach so I know that if I look anywhere besides her face I'll feel myself stir.

She quickly sits up on the bed with her legs crossed and a pillow tucked into her lap. She gives me her soft gaze and dreamy smile whilst I stand at the foot of the bed putting a shirt on.