"Take your shirt off and sit."
Jolting awake, it took my eyes a few seconds to adjust, I slowly scanned around the unfamiliar room. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until something moved next to me. Glancing down, I stared at the sleeping form beside me, a boy who looked no older than twenty-five. I quickly pushed away, knocking over the lamp on the nightstand with a loud crash. Startling the other awake.
"B-Blake what's wrong?" He asked groggily rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"W-Who are you!? How did you get in my house!" I shouted, pressing myself against the wall.
Christopher took a few minutes to analyze the situation before his eyes grew wide. "My name is Christopher, I'm your assistant." He started, slowly crawling to the edge of the bed.
"If you're my assistant then why were you in my bed?" I growled, scanning the room for a weapon.
"I can explain everything to you, just calm down." The younger male said, holding his hands up.
"EXPLAIN NOW!" I shouted, grabbing a shard of the broken lamp, and holding it toward Christopher.
Christopher took a slow breath, "My name is Christopher, I am your assistant but we are also in a relationship." He started.
"If we are together, I would know." I scoffed.
"That's the thing, Blake, you won't. You were taken and tortured. Your mind is trying to protect itself and you have something called Retrograde Amnesia." He explained.
"H-How do I know you're telling the truth?" I asked.
"If you let me, I can show you. Just put the glass down." Christopher barged, noticing the blood seeping through the glass. "Please Blake, you're hurt." He begged in a whisper.
I slowly loosened my grip on the glass, until it fell to the ground shattering. Christopher drew closer, taking my hand into his, and inspecting the large gash. "It doesn't look too deep." He sighed with relief. The younger male led me down into the living room, gently pushing me onto the stool before rummaging through the cupboards. Returning a few minutes later with some gauze, "This is going to sting." He warned, putting a cotton ball on the bottle and then started dabbing the cut.
I hissed sharply, tugging my hand from Christopher's grip. "For an assistant, you're doing a poor job." I snapped.
"I told you it would sting." The other replied calmly, gently taking my hand into his once more. It only took Christopher a few minutes to wrap my hand, He went to open his mouth to speak then closed it when he noticed my confused expression. "What are we doing downstairs? Is it lunchtime?" I quizzed. Christopher couldn't help but laugh, even with all the frustration that squeezed at his chest all he could do was laugh. For a few moments, the house was filled with his laughter. "Yes." He finally answered.
"A-Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, the thought of something funny." Christopher lied, standing.
I nodded, pulling myself onto the couch, while Christopher disappeared into the kitchen. I looked down at the bloody gauze, staring at it for a long minute trying to recollect what happened. But unfortunately, my brain was too fuzzy to think of a coherent thought. Different emotions swelled in my chest; panic was the main one. Did I hurt him? My head whipped around at the mere thought, examining Christopher from afar. Physically he looked fine, a thin smile was on his face as he cooked, but that didn't pass for mentally.
Was I stressing him out again?
Should I send him home?
YOU ARE READING
C.E.O Piggy
RomanceChristopher's dream was to start his own business and hopefully put his good ideas out in the world. But no he had to get an intern job at the most popular computer programing company in Portland Oregon. V-Tech is also being run by the infamous Bla...
