Let Me Call You Mine

Untitled Part 7

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ignored Cal, focusing more on the crochet piece I'm doing.

It's been a few days, two to be exact, since that party, hence, since our lovely encounter. I think it's safe to say that I haven't slept for more than four hours since then.

It's not because I'm scared that he'll have his men bulldoze their way into my home... actually that's partly the reason but the main reason is how calm he took my rejection. He didn't even flinched or glared when I flat out said no to his face and walked away. 

Just like that.

It's almost impossible for something like that to happen. I've seen and lived long enough to know how these kinds of situations usually plays off.

Especially in our circumstance.

He has a critical information about me that he could very much hold over my head and blackmail me until I'm forced to say yes to whatever he wants. 

But instead he just calmly lets go of my face, takes a step back and lets me leave

Unscathed, untouched, and in one piece.

Fuck it, he even offered his help to me.

"Well then, if you're somehow in trouble similar to when we first met, feel free to come to me anytime" 

My fingers momentarily freezes in place.

It's wrong. Everything about it is just wrong. 

I can still feel the presence of the sheet of paper he gave me where he scribbled down his address on. It's mocking me, expecting me to reach a breaking point and dig it out of the trashcan.

"Zari-"

"I'll shove this needle up your ass if you don't shut up" So I've been blowing off steam more than usual since that party. So what.

It's not like I need validation to do that. Especially not from the guy who got me into this mess in the first place.

"So clearly something bad happened in that party in which you won't talk about" Again, I ignored him. 

As if the situation I'm in isn't as bad as it is alone, I'm genuinely worried about the fact that the address he gave me was the location of an old house not too far from here. 

I mean there's nothing wrong with it being secluded and all but I guess the stereotype of the rich in which society has portrayed has admittedly rubbed on my head far more than I expected.

I hear Cal groan again before falling silent and I don't even need to look up to know he's frowning. A look he often wears whenever he's trying hard to figure something out.

I can't believe he's really going into detective mode right now after being threatened.

I kicked him off my legs. He rolls over to his back before kicking his feet up in defeat.

I can't believe this guy is the leader of a resistance group and has the mental capability of plotting ideas that borderlines the word genius.

"I'm so curious" He groans when he comes up with nothing.

"So forget about it" I easily told him to which he glares at me.

"How bad was it to have you crocheting again?" I paused, staring into the distance.

"So starting now that studio belongs to me"

"Everything in it"

"As well as everyone"