Not Like The Rest DrakenxfemOC

Light at The End of The Tunnel

"Hey! What are you doing walking around?" Ken scolds me from the couch as I slip quietly into the kitchen.

He's been doing everything around my house to the point that he is currently folding my clean clothes and sorting my socks into pairs for me.

"Umm, I-"

"I told you to call me if you needed anything," he stands, making his way over to the kitchen. "If you're hungry then I'll get you something to eat," he hovers close behind me, ushering me to the living room to sit.

"No, I'm fine," I turn, placing my hands on his chest. "I was actually going to make you something, you've been doing so much for me. It's the least I could do," I state, gazing up at him. His eyes soften, sighing gently allowing his warm minty breath to grace the bridge of my nose.

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm the one taking care of you," he insists, plait swaying as he shakes his head.

"I know that, but you've already done more than enough. Besides, ordering in will break your bank," I pat his shoulder, squeezing past.

"I can cook, it's fine." His arms hook around my waist from behind, reeling me back as I struggle to break free. My back hitting his chest as I recline my neck to see him.

"No! You can't. You literally burnt my toast this morning," I smirk, wriggling about in his embrace.

"You just have a stupid toaster!" he barks, unconsciously allowing me to drag him into the kitchen.

"Keep your voice down, the residence here are different from your own and don't appreciate the excess noise at night," I poke cheekily, making him roll his eyes. "Now. What would you like me to cook for you?" I beam, swinging the fridge door wide open, only to find nothing.

A few jarred items, such as pickles and olives stare back at me.

"Where'd all the food go?" I mumble in confusion.

"I told you this morning I was throwing out all the crappy stuff because everything went off whilst you were away," he explains, reminding me of the hospital stay which ended today and luckily without a temporary foster family thanks to Draken's stupid plan that actually worked.

"Right, well. I can still whip something up. Just gotta defrost some meat and veggies," I grin, closing the fridge door and reaching up for the freezer above with a wince. My wound still sensitive and muscles tired from the past couple weeks of neglect. I hide my reaction from Draken, stretching to my limits to try and reach a few items from the back. My stitches pulling with my movements, making me hiss as I withdraw quickly to stop the pain.

Ken shuts the freezer door, leaning over my smaller frame. "You aren't cooking," he shuts me down, my excitement dying as I pout in disappointment. Draken is the type that isn't easy to sway, so I know there's no point in arguing further.

"Why must you be so difficult?" I huff, crossing my arms childishly.

"You're one to talk," his voice is deep as he towers over me casting a shadow, my heart twitches nervously.

I turn around looking up, his dark eyes staring right into my soul. I step back anxiously; my back hitting the fridge making me gasp.

I watch him carefully, my heart drumming in my ears. "Ken, what're you doing?" I manage to squeak, my voice taut and mouth parched.

He seems to be out of it, his eyes boring holes into mine with a look that brings me flashbacks of when I was treating his wounds. The way he stared at me with such desire, like a starving animal finally catching something to eat. His large hands rest on my hips, his thumb slipping under my shirt and ghosting over my skin coolly. I inhale sharply, my body hot and sticky. "K-Ken," I mutter shakily, frozen in place as his head dips down, eyes flicking down to my parted lips.