Matchmakers Magic | ✓

05 | no need to get your knickers in a twist

05 | no need to get your knickers in a twist

If you spot any spelling or grammatical error, feel free to point it out.

HE GLANCES DOWN at himself before his face contorts into shock and then horror. He lifts his head slowly, horror written all over his face. He opens his mouth and closes it. He does that a few times, making him look like a gold fish. I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my laugh; I have already invited a lot of weird glances today and I don't want anymore, thank you very much.

"Kitten, you just didn't."

"Oh, I sure did." I smirk, my insides swelling. I give a mental pat to myself for this.

"You're so gonna pay for this kitten," He fishes out a handkerchief from his pocket and swipes it down his face. He shakes his head to get rid of the water that soaks his hair and droplets of water brush against my face. Suddenly he gets up and is by my side in a second. He wounds his fingers around my wrist and I feel my insides turn with a feeling I can't pinpoint. The skin where his fingers are wrapped feels warm and everywhere else it feels cold. It's a weird and strange feeling and I can't say that I don't like it.

Before I know what is happening, I'm being dragged away by Satan. He takes long strides and I have to jog to keep up with him.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" I question, not liking the feeling that is emerging because of his hand around my wrist.

"Don't worry. Just some T-shirt shopping." He patronises me. Well that makes sense since the neckline of his T-shirt is soaked in water. I rake my eyes over his form. He's wearing a grey t-shirt with skin fit blue jeans and sneakers.

"Come on, kitten. You are so slow," He teases, opening the door for himself. Since I expected him to hold the door open for me, I walk forward without really registering what is happening. My face collides with a solid glass door as I walked face first into the door.

"Asshole," I curse Shivaay who is laughing hysterically while clutching his stomach. I rub my nose and narrow my eyes at him. If looks could kill, I swear this man would be under six feet long ago.

"Never said I was a gentleman, Kitten." He grins, tugging at my hand again. He flashes a smile at the saleswoman and I swear she drools. The shop is huge with clothes lining everywhere. It's relatively quiet in men's section since its almost empty. I only spot an elderly couple bickering.

The devil takes his time to chose a shirt for himself. Finally, he picks out a pale blue shirt and muses, "Well, this one is nice." Since he's just going to pay the bill now, I eye the devil, thinking of different ways to kill him. But my eyes bulge out when he takes off his grey T-shirt.

Holy shit.

The muscles of his chest are well defined and there's water sliding down his chest, way, way down. My eyes follow the water droplet that slides down to his low hanging jeans and I gulp visibly. The jeans clings to his body so that I can make out the shape of his toned thighs–

"Stop staring. Take a picture Kitten, it'll last longer." He chuckles and I whip around so my back is facing him. My cheeks heat up and red tinges my face. I probably look like a tomato right now. I press my hands on my cheeks to cool them off. I shake my head to get rid of the perverted thoughts that had entered my mind.

"Was not," I deny, my face still feeling hot.

"Was too," he mocks me, "you can turn around now. I'm done."

I slowly turn around but squeak when he stands there chuckling with his shirt off. God, why does he have to make fun of me everytime? I stalk off and stand at a far away corner so I know he's not in my line of vision.