seven : I don't catch feelings

I hesitated before answering.

"Uh..", I started clearing my throat. "It's Jade". I Said walking into the room.

I met his eyes through the mirror and proceeded to stand a few feet behind him unsure of what next to do.

"I told CJ to not let you out of the room until you're well," He hissed at me eyeing me from the mirror, his back still turned towards me.

"I.. I.. Uh... Didn't know that," I replied, hearing my voice come out more tin than supposed.

He didn't respond or stand either, instead, he kept on dressing his injury while I watched him.

His well-sculpted back and arms flexed once again with each of his movements. That was the first time I was seeing him shirtless while sober and I was using every bit of self-control in me to stop myself from running over to him and running my hands on them.

I took a huge breath, dragging my eyes away from his body and looking elsewhere, anywhere around his room.

His room was quite big, the walls were painted just the same as the rest of the house, a flower by the window, and a painting in his room as well. Everywhere was spotless and there was almost nothing lying around, well except for the tools he was using at the moment which lay on the table beside him.

"Leave if you're done talking." He hissed again turning my attention back to him.

I turned to walk out when I heard him grunt again and I knew I just couldn't leave him.

Slowly, I walked to him and gently took the bandage from him.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he examined me trying to figure out what I wanted to do. He had his stomach injury dressed already so I couldn't tell if it was a stab or a bullet hole. He had a slightly deep cut on his left arm and was done cleaning it, just needed to put the bandage on it.

The whole time when we were inside the car and when we had gotten home, I hadn't noticed even for a split second that he had been injured or in pain.

"I know what I'm doing Saint," I told him pushing a chair to his front and sitting to face him.

I locked eyes with him occasionally as he watched me keenly, never looking elsewhere.

"Marcel used to come home on some days with injuries, Suzy was barely at home, so I had to learn to treat him," I told him trying to break the silence between us.

"He was good at his job," Saint replied briefly.

I wrapped the bandage and put the remaining stuff away then smiled at him, "I'm done."

He finally took his eyes off me and looked at what I'd just done, then nodded. "I'm impressed."

I looked into his eyes, something I couldn't always get enough of and something I was starting to get used to. His eyes always looked like they had a lot to say yet he said almost nothing each time.

His signature man-bun-styled hair with loose strands falling in front of his face always made him look ethereal. He was handsome, with a strong jawline, beautiful eyes, sculptured body.. what was there not to like about him. I agree I barely knew anything about him but I just couldn't stop thinking of him.

I reached up to touch his face, eventually failing to stop myself any longer but he stopped me halfway, holding my hand again, just as he had done the morning after we had slept together.

"Look Jade," He said, his eyes darkening as he looked at me and his frown deepening. "Don't get anything confused,"

"What do you mean?" I asked gently.

"We just slept together because we were both drunk, but you just keep crossing the fucking line." He said and I attempted to let my hand out of his grip but he didn't allow it and instead, held it tighter.

"I... I actually.."

"I don't care whatever it is you think but stop crossing the line," He warned watching me.

"I don't want to -"

"Jade, I don't catch feelings and I won't like you Stop acting like we've got anything going on between us."

I stared at his stone-cold face with every word he said. There wasn't any emotion in it. He let my hand drop slowly beside me.

I mean he was right. We slept together because we were drunk. But what about in the car after he had teased me, we weren't drunk there, he had looked at me just like the other night when we were in each other's arms.

A part of me knew I needed to stop thinking about him more than usual and just let things be as they were. I was in fact only here because he needed Marcel or Tequila, whatever they knew him as to come out of hiding and that was all. I was going to leave and get the fuck out of his life. I was going to apply for more jobs, travel to another part of the country and be away from his life. I just needed to stop.

I took a deep breath watching him, "I was just worried about you, nothing more." I told him quietly trying to convince myself.

He flared up as his eyes looked like they were going to shoot fire out of them at any moment.

"Don't fucking do that! Don't get worried about me and just stick to your fucking room! Don't meddle in my business!" He shouted.

I saw him run a hand over his face trying to control his instant annoyance.

"Don't ever come into this room ever again either. Don't wander about. Just stick to your room!"

"I'm sorry," I apologized, confused about what exactly I had said that made him flare up.

"Get out! Now!" He shouted again and with that, I walked away without uttering any more words.