The Devil

Chapter 26

I woke up with a smile on my face. Kevin didn't leave the bed after all. His arms were wrapped around my waist from behind and we both were very close to each other.

Very.

I felt a bit weak, but I ignored the feeling and turned around to face his beautiful face. Surprisingly, he was awake just like me.

"Good morning Jones." I whispered with my wide smile. He was staring at me quietly for some time, and that was when my smile disappeared. I knew that he would turn cold on me again.

It was too good to be true.

He saw the extreme change in my mood and pulled me closer to him, kissing my forehead once I was as close as possible to his warm body.

"Good morning beautiful." He called me beautiful again, what was wrong with him?

"How are you feeling?" He asked concerned, probably from the 'situation' yesterday.

"I am ok Kevin, stop worrying." I tired to convince him, but couldn't even convince myself.

"How do you want me to stop worrying? You have a fever Mariah." He sounded mad.

"And why exactly are you mad?" I asked, getting kind of angry too.

"I am not mad." He sounded even angrier.

"Are you mad at me because I have a fever Jones? Do you get how ridiculous this is?"

"I am not mad Mariah, cut it already!" He half yelled.

I was stopping myself from slapping him and got out of bed. It's always one step forward and four steps back with him and I was getting tired of it.

He was mad at me because I have a fucking fever! How insane can he even be?!

The things that I had to deal with in the mornings...

"Come back to bed." He demanded.

"I don't feel like it." I announced proudly and walked towards his bathroom.

"Come back to bed Mariah." He warned, but I decided to ignore and walk inside the fancy bathroom.

Ugh, everything about him was too much, even his freaking bathroom.

I made sure to lock the door and went straight to the toilet, feeling the sudden need to throw up. I touched my forehead and the strong heat confirmed my fears.

I really did have a fever.

I sat down on the floor with my face literally inside the toilet, and waited for the food to come out of my body.

I hated that feeling.

While I was waiting patiently, I heard weird sounds coming from the door and seconds later, footsteps getting closer and closer to my weak figure.

"Go aw.." Before I could even complete my favourite sentence, I threw up.

I felt two strong hands on my back moving in a slow and comforting rhythm. My mother used to do that every time I threw up. The asshole then removed my hair from inside the toilet and mainly my face.

"I wasn't mad. I am just not used to feeling concerned for someone, I am sorry." He whispered and I could hear the pain in his voice. Once my body decided to stop torturing me, I turned around to face him.

He couldn't look at me.

"You are always so hot and cold with me Kevin." I took a deep breath to calm down from the fight that we just had and from my amazing throwing up session.