His

November, 11th

Ace Winter's POV:

The best thing about being a CEO is that I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want, which suits Nymphadora perfectly since she comes at 4. I have all my meetings and appointments after 4 which gives me enough time for my 'extracurricular activities.'

She walks into my office and puts the cup of coffee in front of me. 

"Nymphadora?"

"Yes?" she says, keeping her gaze on the wooden floor.

"Nymphadora?"

"Yea?" she looks up at me and our eyes lock. Her eyes are duller than usual.

"I am sure I asked for black coffee," I say with a shake of my head.

"What?" She says, confused. I look at the expresso on my table and she follows my gaze.

"I am sorry. I thought- I'll bring your coffee in a minute," she says and moves forward to grab the coffee but I sigh with another shake of my head and she stops.

"I am sorry," she mumbles again, looking back at her feet.

"Are you okay?" I ask her even though her words from yesterday kept me up at night.

She does not look okay. At all.

She nods slightly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, all the time my eyes follow her movements. But they stop and zero at a spot on her neck and I look back at her face.

"Come here!" I say and it comes out like an order, exactly what I wanted.

Her eyes shoot up with confusion, but she doesn't move. I sigh and get up from my seat and walk around the table toward her. I come to a stop in front of her and lift my hand to touch the wound on her neck but she backs away, as if on instinct.

"If you are not going to tell me what happened then at least let me see it," I say in a strained voice.

"I am not your problem," she says in an even voice.

"But you are my fucking responsibility," I say, clenching my jaw.

"No, I am not! Stop being nice to me, for fuck's sake!" She says, frustration seeping out of her in the form of words.

"Sit the fuck down!" I point to the couch. "Now!" I say loudly and she flinches but obeys.

I open a drawer of my desk and pull out the first aid box. Walking back to the couch, I notice how she is slightly shivering, definitely not because of the cold. 

"Come here."

"No!" She says almost immediately.

"Let me put something on your wound before you get an infection. Come the fuck here." She is so annoying.

"I'll do it myself!" she says stubbornly.

"Let me do it!" I say, completely irritated.

"No!" 

"Fine!" I say, exasperated.

She picks up the box and makes her way out of the office, coming back 10 minutes later to find me sitting in the same spot she left me in.

She has a small bandage on her neck where the wound was. She does not make eye contact with me as she puts the first aid box back where she picked it up from, mumbles a quiet thank you, and turns back to leave.

"Stop!" I command again.

She turns around slowly. "Yes?" She looks so annoyed.

I take a deep calming breath before addressing her.