"Kiss me." He picks me up and kisses me again.
His hands on my waist, my hands in his hair and my lips all over him.
I think I don't have a crush anymore.
I think i'm in love.
We break the kiss and he looks at me, "I'm so fucked aren't I my Val?"
︶꒦...
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Throughout the day, Demetrius was nowhere to be found.
Kapow. Gone.
He wasn't even in his office, and after last night, I'm terrified that something between us has shifted. Worse, I'm scared I might be getting too comfortable—right before I end up dead.
It's okay. Stay positive.
He won't shoot me... I think.
I sigh, staying holed up in the art room until suddenly, I feel a wave of discomfort wash over me. Looking down at my pants, I realize the situation is far from ideal.
Great. Hanzo's not here either—the one who organizes my clothes and sanitary items—and I'm out of pads. I head to my room in a panic, but no luck. It's time to bunker down in the bathroom. Tissue paper will have to do until Hanzo magically shows up.
What *is* that man's job, anyway?
I've officially accepted defeat. This is the worst situation to be stuck in—until I hear a knock at the bathroom door.
Tiptoeing out, I open the door to see Demetrius frowning down at me.
"And you're in here because...?" he asks sarcastically.
There are a lot of ways I could respond.
One: I needed to poop, and it was a long one.
Two: I couldn't aim my tinkle correctly.
Three: "Sorry, just busy..." I mutter, embarrassment flaming my cheeks.
He places a hand on my forehead and raises an eyebrow. "No temperature," he mutters.
This is my moment—I could ask him to help me get what I need, maybe even convince him to let me join him outside and make a run for it. I could change my identity, become a French woman—independent, feared by all, maybe even an artist. Perfect.
"Where were you today?" I ask, trying to sound confident, but my voice betrays me, coming out as a whisper.
"Work," he mimics, his voice just as soft.
Well, you don't say.
"Now that you've asked your question, I have one: what were you doing in the bathroom for so long?"
"Wait a second, how do you even know how long I was in there?" I raise an eyebrow. *Stalker alert.*
"That doesn't answer my question, Val."
I take a deep breath. "Well, you see... I was having some, uh, lady issues. I need some pads," I explain, fidgeting with my sleeves.
"Right. I'll buy what you need." He turns to leave.
This is it, Valentina. Convince him to let you go with him, and you're free.
"I was wondering if I could join you..." I ask, trying to sound casual, even as my heart pounds.
