𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃¹⁸

7

-Chapter Seven-
-Night-

****

I groaned and turned to my side, trying to get comfortable, but it was hard. Sleeping on a table isn't as easy as it looks-actually, it never looks easy, who am I kidding?

My back hurt, and my neck felt as though I was hanging from a rope. Reluctantly, I sat up and looked around. My eyes squinted at first, expecting a bright room, but then they quickly adjusted to the dim lighting.

I found myself in an office, as expected. There was a pillow where I had been lying and a thick blanket beneath me that did nothing to prevent me from feeling the hard surface. A pile of documents was neatly packed on one side of the desk, where my sock-covered feet were resting. I lifted my head and scanned the office. It had a dark green color, a few art pieces hung on the walls, and shelves filled with a large number of books. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of books they were.

As my search continued, my eyes landed on the man who appeared to be sleeping with his head resting on the desk, on top of a pile of papers. There was a visible frown on his face as his brows pushed together. Even in this position, his side profile looked perfect.

Why did he have to be so good-looking? I kept looking at him, allowing myself to believe that he was sleeping. His breathing pattern was still the same. It caught my attention and I found myself trying to imitate it, breathing in and out at the same time as him.

He dragged me here after we ate the food he made, which not surprisingly tasted good considering the way it smelt while being cooked, mentioned he had some paperwork to finish and I'd have to wait until he's finished or sleep on the table. Obviously I chose the latter option. I'm glad I did because it seems he didn't finish the paperwork.

Why so many tattoos? I questioned, there was no reason- or was there? His hand was covered in ink, it looked good on him. I can't deny that but still.

Leonardo without a doubt has a hand and foot in the illigal world. I'm not stupid;I was just in denial at first. or maybe denial was in me.

What I need to do now is clear my name and run for the hills, never looking back. I want nothing to do with that level of danger. Leonardo appeared far too calm during the shootout, as if he had expected it or become accustomed to such situations. It's sickening to think about how many times one would have to go through that to remain unaffected. It also seemed he knew who orchestrated the whole thing, judging by that phone call.

I'm a normal civilian, I deserve a normal life.

I lay there for a few more minutes before I felt movement beside me. I looked down, and my eyes met his. His gaze was cold, with a hint of sleepiness. A hesitant smile formed on my face. He was staring, "...Good morning," I said, voicing my greeting. He didn't reply. I moved to the side of the table and let my feet hang off the sides before firmly placing them on the floor.

Leonardo watched my movements without uttering a word. I felt like I would forget how to stand under his intense gaze. I stood there, staring at the wall, unsure of what to do. I didn't have any other options, it's not like I could walk away from his presence.

A knock came from the door, saving me from the uncomfortable silence. Finally, his attention shifted away from me as he turned to address whoever was at the door. They exchanged a few words in a language I couldn't understand until the man left, allowing the silence to sweep in again. "Don't let them see your face," he told me, gesturing for me to gather the pillow and blankets from his desk. I did as instructed, then turned my body away from the door to face him. For a brief moment getting under the table where it might be safest.