Psychopath || myg✓

07| chef

It's been more than a few hours of staying at Suga's house. You can see a bruised up woman, cleaning the house.

There are evident bruises and scars all around her obviously malnourished body. She'd be a horror character no offense. Because not only is she bones, but she also has a grim expression of depression and every perceivable negative emotion.

Suga said not to bother knowing anything about her and that she was a patient (literally a victim who is he fooling), that is lucky to even breathe air right now.

She's the maid. The only maid, in this big house.

And the said house is sparkling clean, top to bottom.

You felt empathetic and wanted to hug her, plot an escape, plan to run away from this jerk, and live the best life together forever. But as Suga said (more like commanded), you didn't dare to bother her. For as you thought that your future will be like hers; if you try to oppose.

Another hour and you didn't take your eyes off of her, she moves back and forth, diligent and hardworking. But I swear she already mopped that place an hour ago.

I wanna help with cleaning she must be tired.

She may have been a breadwinner of whoever's family or she might be a brat who bought fancy things for her daily life, spending her parents' money to waste, she could also be a kid, a simple teen.

Nevertheless, she's a living human and she doesn't deserve this.

It might not be or might be one of those choices, but now all you see is her deep eye bags, pale chapped lips, her cheeks have sunken and her hair is dry, almost bald, and messy. She now cleans the antiques and displays of the house, carefully.

Which is slow but spotless.

She glanced at me and when she saw me staring at her she quickly shook her head back to the work.

Suga came down and snapped his fingers. The maid's legs shake as she ran away out of sight.

"How's the house?" he asked.

"It's decent," you answered short, slightly mad to see him again after having gruesome thoughts about his real nature, being a cold psychopath.
.

.

.

.

.

"I think my baby is hungry!" he sang, cutely. "I'll cook for you!" he added.

Suga took your hand and led you to another room. It felt nice to stand up, you felt butt cramps – if that even exists – for sitting too long but you were too scared to stand up.

The kitchen is very modern and the fridge is full and stuffed with a variety, it's a whole grocery store. He asked you what you wanted to eat and you answered with your favorite food, thoughtlessly since you were focused on your surroundings and his hand that held your waist close to his body.

"Is it your favorite?" he asked, smiling, you nod hesitantly and blushed.

Why would you blush?

"I'll cook it for you right away sweetie. Don't blink on me." he winks with a genuine smile while he takes an apron.

He sliced the ingredients swiftly. One after another. It's another side of this weird psychopath.

Hm, interesting.