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My eyes flutter open slowly, as I take in my surroundings. Where am I? I look around and see a mix of gray, white, and black. I'm still in the clothes that I dressed myself in this morning.
I get out of bed, and the massive headache catches up to me. I remember what happened. I went to my mother's grave and passed out. I should have checked the weather forecast.
I walk out of the spacious room, and head to my room. I take off the clothes I'm wearing, and shrug on a sweat set Kiandre bought me in London. it's the only clean thing I have since I've been quite uninterested in menial tasks.
Once I sort out the rest of my appearance and make sure too much of my skin is exposed, I head downstairs, where I hear a pan clattering. The aroma of pancakes lingers in the air, I finally get there, and what surprises me the most, is Leandro.
"L-Leandro?" His head turns to mine, and he flashes me a very small upturn of his lips. I look at him quizzically, and he clears his throat.
"Here. Have a seat" I sit on one of the stools in the kitchen, as he slides over a plate with pancakes and fruits, topped with whipped cream.
"Did you bring me here?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"Eat, we'll talk after" I throw him another confused look, before starting to dig in my food. And I almost moan out from how good it is. I keep eating the delectable chocolate pancakes, while Leandro Looks around, sipping his coffee. His hair is ungelled, and his clothes are comfortable. Wait, is he staying home?
I finally finish my plate, surprisingly, since I can't seem to stomach large amounts of food. I take it to the sink and take out the sponge before it's taken out of my hands.
"No, let me"
"No. You cooked, I'll clean the dishes."
"Are we going to do this every time any of us make food?" My mind wanders to the first time he made me food. I sigh.
"Let me. Please" He lets go of the sponge reluctantly, and I begin cleaning my plate and utensils. Once they're all stored, I turn to Leandro. "Come on"
He holds his hand out for me and brings me to the living room where a red box with a cross lay on the coffee table. My body stills immediately. I look up to Leandro, for some kind of explanation.
"I noticed your knees were scraped. I thought I'd help you clean them"
My brows furrow. When did he become so nice?
"I can do that myself"
"I know, but it's the least I can do" I relax slightly, and let him lead me to the couch. It's quite strange how his hand fits so perfectly with mine. I sit on the cushion, and he raises my pant leg while looking up at me, with what seems consent? I nod slowly, and he lifts it to my knee, where I had indeed scraped my skin.
He grabs the alcohol and dabs it on a cotton pad to disinfect. He taps it on my skin with no warning. I hiss out at the sudden sting. He mutters a small, sorry.
Why is he being so nice?
He wants something of yours.
Or he's trying to get on your good side.
Either way, I don't trust him.
Maybe because he doesn't want you to look damaged to be able to look like his trophy wife.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that he was done with the first leg, and was lunging for the second. I look at his actions carefully, analyzing him.
"What?"
"Why are you being so nice to me?" And there, I asked it. The million-dollar question.
"Because I realized that the way I was treating you wasn't fair. It wasn't the way I was raised."
"Who told you?"
"No one. I-"
"Who told you?" I asked again, with more hardness in my tone. He sighs.
"My sister-in-law remarked it to me, and my mother just knew" Now it's my turn to sigh. That's why I don't trust people.
"Is that why you wanted to see my scars last night?"
"Partly, yes" My eyes meet his once he drops my second leg.
"I'm sorry."
"What do you have to be sorry for?"
"a lot of things. To start, the way I treated you. Then, the way I speak to you, and the way I think of you. I thought you were just a spoiled princess this whole time, but my sister-in-law and my mother made me realize that there's a person with emotions under my stereotypes. So here I am, asking for your forgiveness, and a second chance"
"Forgiveness?"
"Yes. And we're married. I have this inexplicable reason to be drawn to you, and I want to know why. I want to have a relationship with you."
"I doubt your words"
"Then let me show you if you'll let me?"
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