Later that day, I got dressed and ready to get picked up for lunch. Simon picked me up, at noon, as promised. As soon as I got into his car, he gave me a look.
"Was König here last night?" he asks.
Shit. I don't want this to look a way that it isn't.
"Yes," I say, annoyed. "Apparently some new recruit grazed him at the range. For some fucking reason he came to me for help, and then was so delirious he crashed here. Bled all over my table," I say, frowning.
"Bloody fool," Simon agrees, and we head to the restaurant.
Lunch is very nice. It's good to spend quality time with Simon, and avoid talking shop. We decide to meet up again tonight for more training.
Training goes well - I really am making some great progress. I leave feeling exhausted, but satisfied.
Sunday, though, things take a turn.
I make the mistake of going to the gym, because apparently, you never know who's going to be there. I go specifically at eleven in the morning, which is the time where it's usually empty. The crowd is either sleeping in from hangovers, or they're attending church services.
As I begin my workout, a tall, brooding figure walks in. I try to hide behind the machine next to the leg press I'm using, but it's no use. He's already seen me. His eyes zero in on me, and then he pretends I'm not there.
I continue my reps, looking only at myself in the mirror, despite König being so noisy with the plates. I turn up the volume in my earbuds, a desperate attempt to tune him out, but it doesn't work super well when he takes the spot directly in my line of sight.
I move on to the next exercise, and the next, and the next. I end on the treadmill, doing an incline walk - it's best for mobility - when König takes the one directly next to me.
He's trying to irk me at this point. I look up at the mirror, at how sweaty and red I am, and suddenly wish I had a mask to wear. I imagine despite its inconviences, it also has some perks.
I could have sworn I saw his eyes drop down to my sports bra, but I blink and he's looking down at his phone.
I give him a dirty side-eye and get on my phone, too.
"What are you listening to?" comes a voice. I knew I shouldn't have lowered the volume on my music.
"Nothing," I say, scowling. I turn off my phone and put my hands on my hips, annoyed.
Without warning, he plucks my phone out of the cupholder.
"Oh, interesting," he says. "Didn't know you were such a girly girl."
I grab it back, cutting my workout short. I turn off the treadmill, get my water, and head over to the lockers where I pull out my jacket.
"I didn't know you were so sensitive, either," he says, suddenly right behind me. His voice drops an octave, and I ignore the warmth that spreads over my skin, different from the sweat of the gym.
"I'm not sensitive, you're just annoying. You interrupted my workout and I'm not interested in engaging with such childish behavior."
"Talk about childish," König says, a smirk permeating his tone. "You talk to me like I am one. Good boy? Really?"
"You came to me for help." I say something then, something I shouldn't. "You probably liked being called a good boy, anyway."
I get closer, looking right up at him. "You look like you crave validation. Pretend to be all stoic and silent when really, you just wanna be loved." I make a mocking sad face, and then resume my glare. "Don't try to act like you have the fucking upper hand. I'll read you for filth anytime of day."
He slams the locker next to my head, caging me in. I don't flinch as he goes to take a breath to make a comback.
I laugh. "Nice try. You don't scare me." I duck under his arm and leave.
YOU ARE READING
Quiet Hate
RomanceKönig, insertion specialist, is good at his job. Special warfare isn't an easy task, but König makes it seem that way. He doesn't have many friends, doesn't socialize, and he never shows his face. Certainly not to some random new girl that shows up...
