The Subtle Art of Love and War 2

Chapter 12: Giraffe and Smurfette

"Make yourself comfortable," Hero says the moment we step into his penthouse.

I roam my eyes and see that nothing has changed in the place except maybe for the carpet. He moves towards the kitchen and I pad behind him. He takes out two bottles of water from the fridge, offering one to me.

"I see you didn't change anything with the place," I comment, my eyes zooming at the stove and memories of waking up in this place for the first time after Janus drugged me and finding Hero cooking breakfast for the two of us. He looked so good then but I was too stubborn to admit it. He wasn't the typical defined-muscles-and-washboard-abs kind of guy; he was lean and muscular in the right places. Now, Hero looks so much better; his muscles more defined yet still lean.

"Never wanted to change anything," he shrugs.

I remember he did once offer to let me redecorate the place however I wanted. He also once told me about having the guest room converted into my own closet. Did he ever went through that?

As if reading my mind, he tells me, "Your can still use your room. I mean, the room you used to use before." He then rubs the back of his neck which is his tell for when he's nervous or flustered.

Oh.

"And here I thought we'd be sleeping together," I pout playfully.

"Jo..." he warns.

"Hero..." I mimic his accent in a mocking manner which makes him chuckle. "Are you really that afraid something would happen between us if we sleep in the same bed together?" I ask, amused at how the tables have turned. Three years ago, he was the one who always seduced me until I gave in to him. And now, I'm practically throwing myself at him and of course, he would be the honorable one between us this time around. I mentally roll my eyes.

"Aren't you?" He asks instead of just straight out answering my question. Fucker.

"We've slept on the same bed the other night without anything happening between us," I remind him.

"That's because I was controlling myself. I don't have the self-control of a saint, babe. You should know that."

I slowly close the gap between us, running my hand from his shoulders down to his chest. Batting my lashes as I look up at him, I whisper seductively, "Then don't."

"You're going to hate me if-,"

"I could never hate you, Hero," I declare, cutting him off.

A flash of emotion reflects off the greens of his eyes before he gently leans down and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle and tender like he's afraid that he'd break me as he caresses my cheek with his large hand, tilting my head to the side as he tilts his to the other side. I could feel goosebumps forming on every inch of skin on my entire body. This is unlike the passionate kisses we usually share; it's not fuelled by lust or desire. This one is sweet and tender and full of love. He's conveying his love for me through this kiss.

"I don't want to rush things between us this time, love. Please," he breathes against my lips, his voice low and pleading.

"Okay," I sigh, nodding my head on assent and pecking his lips one last time before tearing myself off of him and taking a step back. Self-control, Jo, self-control.

He takes my hand and guides me out of the kitchen and towards the hall going to the bedrooms. Opening the door, he ushers me inside the very familiar guest room. Just like the rest of this penthouse, there hasn't been any changes to this room. I walk around, grazing my hand on the vanity, looking inside the closet and the bathroom. All my stuff is still in here-immaculate clean like it's just waiting for me to come.