During the Thunderstorm (Natural Disaster) ✔

Chapter Twenty-Four

This was the second time this year she wanted someone to bury her alive.

And all in the presence of Federico.

He was an awful influence on her.

Terrible, terrible man who has to go and save me. And...

God. This was worse than last time. She couldn't remember anything after Federico had picked her up at the party.

She threw herself at him.

That happened. Well.

And he also confessed he missed her.

Her insides melted. Which was uncomfortable since she was battling against a pounding headache and twirling stomach.

When she opened her eyes, she realized she wasn't in her bedroom. And that the delicious smell wasn't coming from her but from the pillow.

Hmm...

She should be overthinking everything at this point. It was her modus operandi. How she got there, where was Federico, and why was she in his bed (assuming it was his bed since it smelled like him). What had she done after she threw herself at him like he was her favorite person on the planet (though it wasn't far from the truth). But her brain was fried and something good smelled outside, she was distracted. She rolled from one of the most comfortable places on Earth and marched out. Well, she limped. She remembered after planting her toe to the floor and it flared up with pain how she had twisted it the night before.

The first thing she saw was Federico in a white shirt and sweatpants. In front of the stow. Cooking. Maybe for her? She knew he was very thoughtful, the infuriating guy. And it probably tasted bad because the guy shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen.

Like he could sense her presence whenever she entered a room, he glanced over his shoulder and twitched the corner of his lip.

"No," She said before he could say anything. "Not fair."

"What's not fair?" he asked, already sounding amused like he knew something funny was going to get out of her mouth and he was going to enjoy it.

She growled. "That I'm dying, thinking about dirt and wondering what's your cologne because it smells too good. And you just...you just look fresh and well rested. And have lovely arms even in huge shirts that hide them."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her confessions. "Lovely arms?"

She moved to sit on the barstool in front of him and growled. "You heard me." She eyed the food in the pan and frowned. "And you're probably going to poison me with your cooking. Please do it. It would hurt less than this headache."

A soft smile curled on his lips as he glided a cup of coffee. Black coffee. In front of her. She eyed it with more skepticism, even though it smelled glorious.

That was what had smelled delicious from his bedroom.

A while passed as she eyed the black coffee and Fede looked at her before he chuckled and talked. "It is not poisoned. I promise I bought it and haven't tampered with it. No sugar. Or salt."

"You bought me coffee," She stated. When did he wake up and go for coffee?

He shrugged. "Yes. I didn't have any here." He swallowed. "And we both know how you are after poor sleep and no coffee. Can't have it. Besides I owed you from last time in Dallas."

"So, you admit it was your fault last time," She said as she grabbed the coffee and took a cautious sip. She groaned at how good it was.

Bitter and warm and familiar. Was it from the one place she missed the most, Lutto?