Eros: A Game Of Wits (A Mafia Novel)

10. His Demeanor

Well, hello there my beautiful people. It's been a while, I know.

This chapter was not supposed to finish today, but I realized there was a nice part I could end it so I could publish it sooner than expected.

And things are getting rather interesting...

Jason took his shirt off and set it beside him, while Florence came to stand in front of him. She had a frown on in hopes to hide the discomfort that was eating her up. "You don't have to, you know." She took a pair of scissors as she skimmed him with indignation. How long before she decided she had enough of his bipolar demeanor?  His eyes were practically glued on her own, inwardly pleading for forgiveness.

They were still arguing back and forth. When she mentioned that she had to do some essential work and by that she meant; finish unpacking all the boxes that her mother sent her from home... Well, he offered help, but with her stubbornness she just refused to back down. Besides she couldn't handle seeing his face for more than... Of course she couldn't just avoid him, no matter how much she wished to. He was living in her house and she couldn't just throw him out. Greeks are known for their hospitality after all.

"You're still fretful over it, aren't you?" The guy had an innocent smile playing at his lips. She didn't want to honor him with her attention so she tried to focus elsewhere. She cut the bandage with the scissors and allowed the worn out fabric to fall freely on the floor.

She huffed, making her annoyance overt. "What makes you say that?" She put an act of ignorance but she couldn't prevent the seething mien from appearing. He was aware of her ire; she made sure it was plain to see from early this morning. She barely even talked to him. She suspected he asked her to help him clear his wounds to get a chance to talk to her.

The young man observed her reaction for a moment as she detached the bandages covering his front and rear wounds. Despite her vexation, which was all too visible, she wasn't handling him with any harsh or vicious moves that could cause irritation to his open flesh. "Well, since morning you've been acting quite scathing when I attempt to confab with you."

Her dangerous glower fixated directly at him. "Can you blame me?" She began cleaning his front wound with the essentials the doctor had provided her with.

"Is it too late to say 'I'm sorry'?" He tilted his head to the side with a playful look, but even then it kept probity.

She frowned even further and suspired. "Why are you apologizing to me? Your body is trying hard to heal efficiently, yet you killed the process with what you pulled off yesterday. If you're planning on killing yourself then I see no reason for you to stay here-" her ranting seemed to have no end, not that it bothered him. Still, the last bit she blurted out irritated him a great deal, so he acted accordingly. With a move too fast to comprehend he snaked an arm around her waist and threw her on the couch beside him.

She gasped startled, only to grunt the moment she landed on the seat. He had made sure the girl was properly laid down before leaning over her. His hand remained on her side, preventing her from rolling off. Florence observed wide-eyed as he loomed over her. His eyes held a fire she had never seen on anyone else, ever before. She gaped at him, trying to hide how terrified she really was. "What do you think you're doing?" Her tone kept a warning edge to it.

He completely disregarded her question. His lips parted as he gave her a faint smirk, but his eyes were narrowed hinting her that he would discuss about something momentous. "So you admit that you are concerned about my well being." It was a statement, not a question and he was quite serious about this- although- curiosity was playing in his voice.