Beyond Desire

11-That would make for great blackmailing material.

Listen, but don't worry if you tune out as I have said this before anyway. But I would say it again cause really, faith does have a unique way of laughing at my futile attempts to keep everything going within my range of thought. I thought I had prepared for the worst which would be a run-in with him. I had my "ignore him like a pro" plan all rehearsed but faith was like "Is that a challenge?" and honestly, my response doesn't matter anyway, it's already had the perfect disaster waiting for me, just for the kicks of it

I left home with the assigned driver and a security car behind, heading straight to Hajiya Zarah's to deliver whatever the bag contained.

It took a while to calm my nerves and build enough confidence to step out of the car after successfully making it to Hajiya Zarah's house, you know, the type where you put on a fake blinding smile, eager to get done with whatever, before even starting.

Make no mistake of thinking I have anything against my mother's new friend, no I don't. It's just the possibility of crossing paths with that excuse of a human, is driving me crazy, to the point where I'm tempted to sprint back to the car and Usain bolt out of their premises forever.

For someone with a flair for luxury, all things glittering, I would politely say Hajiya Zarah's taste in housing is rather plain. I wouldn't expect anything less than vibrant yellow painted walls with dazzling glasses that reflect the sun and scream "cautions! Owner's wealth may cause blindness!"
Do you get the picture?

But instead, the entire walls were painted in dull white, the interior included. Every other thing apart from the small plant pot on a coffee table beside the whitest shade of couch I have ever seen, was white. I immediately regretted turning down one of their staff outside when they politely asked if I needed a lead-in. So much for not wanting to be an inconvenience.

I took the first turn I saw which was understandable since that was the only turn that didn't lead straight into the sprawling living room. The silence in the house was so palpable that my footsteps on the tiled floor sounded excessively loud, compelling me to slow down my pace.

The path I chose led me directly to an open kitchen. With the little bit of confidence left, I strolled toward the slightly ajar door having detected precise movement from within. My plan was simple, dump whatever the paper bag contain on the first person I met and make it out swiftly. At least I could say I showed up.

As I stepped into the kitchen, my eyes widened in surprise at the same time my heart skipped a beat. Standing by the counter, his back to me, was the one person I had hoped to avoid. His hands moved deftly, kneading dough with a vigor that almost seemed therapeutic. Why was I even surprised, I mean he practically lived here.

The initial instinct was to silently back out and erase this encounter from my memory but my gaze got stuck on The Viper aka Khalid. His shirt, if I could call it that, clung to his skin like a shadow, showcasing every ripple of muscles underneath. I swallowed, hard, my throat suddenly dry. Now, I just had to navigate my way out without my clumsy ass making a fool of myself and giving him another reason to belittle me.

"Pass me the truffle salt" he unexpectedly uttered, his back still facing me.

I made the quick calculation in my head, I could simply just pass him the salt sitting on the island beside me or I could just dash outside before he veers around. But my brain being the rebel it is, decided to ditch all the reasonable options.

Instead, I found myself transfixed by the flexing muscles of his back as he skillfully rolled the dough.

What? With the amount of ego he has, I would think cooking would be the last thing on his to-do list yet here he was beating up a culinary masterwork, who would have thought?