Taboo: Bittersweet Revenge (Sequel)

Hot 'N' Cold

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Recap:

"Noah, I was just messing with you...." He admitted, his expression changing from sarcastic and playful to a stern tone. His strange tone makes me avert my eyes from him. I walk over to the hallway, adjacent to the staircase. I steal one last glance before I disappear from his sight, letting my back lean against the wall where he cannot see me.

My chest flew up and down at the weird encounter. What was happening to me? Why was my heart suddenly soaring after the sight of Christian's flawless smile? I'm supposed to be focused on the ongoing problem with Argent. Instead, I find myself infatuated by Christian's presence. Yep, that what the effect Christian had on me.

What am I feeling?....

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I sit across the fireplace on one of the many red velvet couches, and I'm surprised at just how comfortable they feel against my back. I cross my legs and wait impatiently as my computer continues to hack into Interpol's case files. I rub my shoulders in response from the warm fire place, the heat radiating thought out the room.

Although I'm wearing Christian's sweater and track bottoms, I still shiver intensely. According to recent news, a severe blizzard will make its way across the eastern seaboard. It was already snowing and freezing cold outside, how much colder can it get?

Christian walks in with a 6 pack of beer and jar of pickles. I eye him speculatively as I crack a smile. "Well I'll be damned", I comment sarcastically. I found it more than hilarious that he took my suggestion seriously. I turn my attention back to the laptop, but mentally curse myself because I don't have my freaking glasses, or my contact lenses. I let out a frustrated breath.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, clearly amused at my misery while taking a sip of beer. Although there are many couches scattered across the large yet comfortable room, he decided to sit on the same couch as me.

"I don't have my glasses" I pout, angry at myself. The fact that Christian won't even let me retrieve decent items from my home is a testament to his paranoia. Either that, or he just wants to keep me at arms length. Only time will tell.

"So?" He remarks. His dirty blonde hair messy yet gorgeous looking waves, gently sleeked back. His eyes narrow me.

"I can't read without my glasses, Christian..." I complain. A part of what hoping he would understand where I was coming from. He looks away and for a moment, his eyes close in frustration and reopen with the same expression. "You won't even let me wear my own clothes from my own home, this is getting ridiculous".

"Even if I were to let you, there's blizzard approaching. There's no way in hell you're leaving this mansion, especially if Styles is out there". Cold and harsh was his tone and I roll my eyes at his words.

I blow my hair off my face and cross my arms, possibly looking like a little kid who was denied ice cream. I squint my eyes and bring the laptop further towards me.

I type in forged I.D numbers before a loading bar appears. A series of unimportant documents jump out, coded in white writing with black background but they are of no help. "You mind telling me what I'm looking at?" He rumbles.

"This is how Interpol store their evidence unit digitally" I explain as I click open a suspicious evidence case reading 125620110523. "See this code, that's the date of entry. 12:56 pm, 2011, May 23rd. By cross-referencing Argent's recently documented whereabouts with these the location of the evidence found, I could find something. Trick is, there's thousands of coded evidence data, and it could take days to decrypt them all" I admitted as I program the scanner for evidence. I close the laptop and push it off my lap, onto the coffee table.