Fatal Infatuation [18+]

Ⅶ

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"Mateo, wait up!" I call out, rushing over to the younger male, clutching the purple binder in my arms. 

With an exasperated exhale, I hold the binder out to him, waiting for him to take it. He only looks at it in my hands and looks back and forth between me and the object. I push it closer to him, and he still doesn't take it. 'Did he forget?' I think in my mind, furrowing my eyebrows. 

"Um, It's the list of business expenses that your dad asked for?" I remind him, chuckling nervously. 

He raises an eyebrow and takes the binder from me, his gaze never leaving my face. "Right." 

His mood is sour and his words are bitter and I feel like I'm five seconds away from losing my mind at his annoying silence. I tend to enjoy the silence and the quiet but this was the type of silence that translates to 'Go away, I don't like you.', which was irritating to say the least, because I had never given him a reason not to like me. I was always nice to him, I made excuses for his tardiness, I tried to understand his outbursts, but he still couldn't stand me. 

I press my lips together in a line, a sudden feeling of awkwardness washing over me. 

"Anything else?" He quipped, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I hesitate for a moment before answering, "Why did you fire Carter? You could've fired anyone, but you chose him." 

The corners of his lips twisted up in an almost mocking way, and he crouched down slightly to meet my gaze. "You really don't know, do you?" 

"I have the power to do... Anything I want, really. Now that he's gone, I can hire anyone I want to take his place. I can hire an asshole to make your life a living hell every time you enter that kitchen, or I can hire another nice guy like Carter and spoil all the fun. What do you think I'll choose?" He hummed teasingly, his face so close to mine that I can smell the cigarette smoke and gum on his breath. 

I take a step back, processing his words. He fired Carter just to spite me, just to make me hate my beloved workplace. He's toying with me. 

"Why do you hate me so much, Mateo?" I asked, my brows knitting together as I tried to disguise the hurt in my voice. 

He chuckled and gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "I don't hate you, Evelyn. I just want you to know that I own you and everyone else who works here," 

"And, well, what happened at the bar? If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll do a lot worse than just firing one of your favorite co-workers." He warned, his grip on my chin tightening with every word, making me wince in pain. He let go of me and walked off, the binder tucked under his arm. 

I only watched him leave in shock, rubbing my sore and almost bruised chin in an attempt to soothe the pain. There was nothing I could do, he was intent on ruining everything. 

I walked back to the kitchen in silence, his words replaying in my head. 'How could he be so cruel?' I thought to myself, my eyebrows furrowing and the frown on my lips never leaving. Even if I told anybody what he said, there's nothing anyone could do except quit, and if they did, he'd replace them with awful people and turn our workplace into a nightmare. All I wanted to do in that moment was to drink myself into a stupor and forget about everything that just happened, but I knew I couldn't. Instead, I bit my tongue and continued cleaning while listening to the soft whirring of the refrigerators.

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(Unknown POV) 

I walked into your apartment and inhaled the familiar scent with a delighted sigh, clenching my eyes shut. I only had a few minutes to spare until you came back from work, and I was going to make that time count.

 I walked into your bedroom, my left hand tucked into the pocket of my hoodie, and looked around. I had already seen everything before, but I loved looking at it. I loved feeling your bedsheets and thinking about how they came into contact with your skin, and I loved feeling your blanket and imagining you wrapped up in it. 

I loved looking through your drawers, your dressers, and seeing every single little secret you had hidden away. I looked at all of your clothes sprawled onto the floor and I fought back the urge to fold them up neatly and place them back into your closet. And, oh God, your closet. All of the clothes that smelled like you, your perfume that smelled like almonds and peonies. 

I inhaled the dress that you had hung up on a hanger, burying my face in the soft fabric.

"My girl," I muttered, resting my head against the fabric as I imagined you entwined in it.

 My little moment was cut short when I heard the door unlocking, and I quickly jumped out of your window. Your window was large enough that I could fit through it, and your apartment wasn't high enough that I could get hurt while climbing out. It was all perfect, like your home was made for me to enter and exit.