Dollface

Part 36

After his little statement, he left me in the bedroom and I smiled to myself like a young girl. Then I put on some new clothes and went to the kitchen where Simon was opening a can of Red Bull.

He looked up at me and slowly scanned my outfit before taking a sip.

I: Um... c-can I ask you a question?

I stare at my fingers as I play with the sleeves of my cardigan.

S: Yes, but don't think I'll answer it if it's stupid.
I: What happened to you? What made you walk that way?

My eyes turn back to him as I bite my bottom lip. I couldn't accept the fact that he was always so heartless. He can't express anything other than anger, annoyance and lust. And the frown he showed when I asked him made me immediately regret even asking.

S: If I told you almost two months ago that nothing made me do it, what makes you think the answer has changed?

He was obviously uncomfortable talking about this topic. But as he starts to walk past me, I press my hands against his chest, stopping him right in front of me. I stare at him with concern as he stares at me with nothing less than irritation and anger.

I: You don't have to get angry all the time.
S: I'm not angry.

I raise my eyebrows at what was obviously a lie just for him to push past me and take a seat on the couch.

I: Yes, you are.

I follow him, purposely stopping in front of the map on the coffee table that he was trying to focus on.

S: No I'm not, I will be if you don't get out of the way.
I: Stop lying!
S: Don't raise your voice at me!
I: Fuck you!

His hands grab my hips and soon pull me onto the couch where I'm laying on my back. Then I was met with the sight of him on top of me, his curls falling to his forehead and an angry expression on his face.

I: Stop pinning me down!
S: Now you listen to me, Isabell, and you listen well. I won't let you in on every dark secret I have, you're not supposed to know. Stop asking questions about me. Stop trying to understand me, you're wasting your time, and if I hear you raise your voice at me again, you'll regret it.

My lips part at his threatening comment, causing my eyebrows to furrow in frustration.

I: Is that a threat?
S: It's whatever you want, baby.

'Baby', that goddamn name again. It's so abnormal coming out of such an evil mouth. But in a way, it turns my stomach and my breathing increases to the point where my mind loses all control over my actions.

By that, I mean, without even thinking twice, I boldly wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to meet my lips. At first, he was completely frozen and taken back, I think because it was weird for me to just kiss him when we were both so angry.

But little by little, he started kissing back. It took about a minute before he pulled back a little and stared at me in confusion.

S: I don't understand you.
I: I don't understand you either.
S: I speak a different language or something? Let me know if I do.
I: Probably.
S: Stab me with a fork.

I wrinkle my nose.

I: Violent.
S: Weak.
I: Strong enough to kick you in the balls. Forgot to ask, how did it feel to fall to the ground and cry like a helpless baby?

He looked at me with a hard look, ready to snap.

S: Helpless? Did you just call me fucking helpless?
I: Oh, don't act so fucking offended, I put up with your insults every day; stupid, brat, idiot, I could go on!
S: Isa, a minute ago you were telling me not to get angry all the time, but now you're initiating it. Also, I insult you because I'm mad.
I: You're always mad.
S: Because of you! You're always fighting me off, testing how far you can go until I literally burst into flames with anger! You've crossed so many damn boundaries and this is beyond the deal we agreed on. Most people are afraid of me, but you... you just-
I: I, what?

He stares at me and shakes his head slowly.

S: You're none of those things... you're intelligent, patient, and you're beautiful.

I should be flattered, but I find myself barely feeling it. Instead, my fingers fumble with the collar of his shirt, ignoring eye contact.

I: I wish I could tell you what I think, but I don't know if you're true. I mean, I only know your name and your job. I don't know you.
S: There's not much good in someone who can kill people without a trace of guilt, dollface.
I: I-

My voice was cut off by the computer. Simom turns his head and climbs off of me, initiating me to follow him. He wasted no time pointing out a person standing at the front door through the security camera.

S: Wow, he got there fast.
I: Johnny?
S: Yes.

He presses a few keys on the keyboard, automatically opening both the front door and the entry wall.

Soon enough, Johnny enters through the wall, setting his eyes on us. He said nothing, took off his shoes and left them next to the couch.

J: Eight days, three hours, six minutes and forty-four seconds of my life were spent locked in some basement.
I: Wait what?
J: While you were in Brazil, some masked guys kidnapped me and locked me up. Fucking pisstake, but don't worry, I got out okay.
S: Shit happens.

Simom replied dryly, Johnny's blue eyes looking up at him with a hint of annoyance.

J: I'm taking a shower.

Then, as he walks past us, he looks down at me.

J: Glad to know you're alive too, Isa.
I: Thanks?

He walks into the bathroom and slams the door behind him. I turn my body toward Simon, looking at him as he rubs his hands up and down his face.

S: I didn't do shit because of you.
I: I'm sorry, I'm a distraction.

I try to hold back my smile as he shoots me a look.

S: Watch the sarcasm, baby.