Five

This has been the longest time I have been idle. My muscles were stiff due to the lack of activity. I missed the smell of the wet soil, but the sound of the falling rain was soothing, which is why I welcomed it happily. Sleeping through a storm was no problem, but it wasn’t the thunder that woke me; it was the tingling sensation on the back of my neck and down my spine. My survival instincts kicked in right away, reminding me to stay still. I remained flat, was careful not to move, and started assessing my surroundings. That tingling feeling intensified as the seconds ticked by.

"You can stop pretending; I know you’re awake." Maybe a change in my breathing or my heartbeat—I wasn’t in control. "Turn around and face me, woman." The voice is strong, in the sense that if it weren’t for my power of will, I would have done it in a heartbeat, with no hesitation or overthinking.

I looked over my shoulder; the silhouette of a man sitting down dominated the left side of the room.

This was it; I was finally going to witness and see if the rumors were true, if he was as menacing and handsome, if his eyes did glow in the dark, and if his hair was indeed as dark as night. So many tales had been spread about him that there was no way he could be real. Yes, he appeared to be extremely powerful, but the godlike part—that was what I was about to investigate.

"Reineck informed me about your tales." So that’s the old man’s name. Good. Now I knew one of my enemies' names. Now I needed to learn about the woman. "Confess, tell me the truth."

Another one hadn’t had enough. My lies were credible; there were no plot holes in my stories, and yet I didn’t blame him for not trusting me; I wouldn’t trust anyone.

He was seated right next to the bed, and a red dot lightened bits of his face. He was smoking, and I was curious how the smell hadn’t alerted me first. The curling white smoke rose to the ceiling until it disappeared. He looked relaxed, both arms resting on the armrests, his legs open, and his eyes piercing, leering at me.

"I already told the truth," I said, breaking the silence.

"You told a very well-practiced lie."

"I did not," I say, a little too loud, making me outraged.

He stood up fast, almost making me gasp. So yeah, he was tall. Very tall.

Too tall. 

How can anyone be this tall? No wonder the bed and room appliances were extra large. He needed the extra space. No wonder I had to roll up my sleeves three times.

"Come on, let’s stop the ruse. Just tell me who you are, and we’ll send you on your way." Right, in a box.

"I don’t know what to tell you. I already told that old guy everything he asked me." And some.

"And I don’t believe a word of it."

"Your problem." It slipped out before I could stop myself.

"What did you say?" He hissed; clearly, no one had spoken to him the way I had.

And I decided I no longer cared. "I said, Your problem," He could have killed me the second he stepped into the room, and I wouldn’t have even noticed, but he chose this, maybe later when he got tired of questioning me without avail. And that’s exactly what happened; I didn’t even hear the whoosh that usually accompanies something or someone moving fast. His hand wrapped around my neck, tight but not so tight that he could break it, just enough that I had to make an effort to take a breath.

"Watch your mouth, girl." The way he said girl, with disdain and mockery, he also had my life in his hands, so I chose to keep it closed this time. "I’m not one to play games with." Yes, I was starting to notice just that.

When I didn’t retort or counterattack, he loosened his grip, his thumb and fingers going over where my jugular vein was. Checking for bites? He believed me to be a suckers servant. His roughed-up palm irritated me. Not liking the way it brushed against my skin, I made the silly attempt to try to move away.

"Stay still." Warm breath brushed my face.

He leaned into me, his nose brushing my jaw and the curve. "What are you doing?" I know I heard it; that’s something that can’t be missed. "Are you sniffing me?" Man, someone give me an Oscar. Keeping my composure when this man was testing me, I knew I barely had a scent, but someone like him could probably catch it. Most likely. 

"Why do you smell like me?" While my heart had attempted to hump off my chest at the exact moment I thought I had been caught, he was just worried about the fact that I smelled like him.

So I smell earthy, fresh, and minty.

"I used your soap. And shampoo." I did notice the spicy scent on his soap, but on him, that was another story. Being close like this allowed me to take in the scent of his hair and skin: manly, spicy, and smokey. The blend was good enough to make my toes curl. And I didn’t have my scent heightened up.

He leaned back just enough that I could see his eyes; the penetrating gaze of his gray eyes was striking. Up close, I could finally see his features, and yes, he was definitely handsome, albeit in a rough way. His face was shaven, and his hair had freed itself from the gel. A few tendrils fell forward in an adoring way.

"Who told you you could use my sh*t?" He says as he pulls down the blanket, revealing his clothes on me.

"No one."  I yanked it back, covering myself.

"You need to learn some manners."

I almost said something that sounded like, ‘Are you going to teach me?' But that was too cliche, and I highly doubted that he found it funny. I need to stop grabbing those garbage books; they were making my brain loopy with all their lies and sappy love scenes.

"I didn’t know they were yours." For a mere second, I think there was the shadow of a smile on his face. Maybe it was my imagination or a muscle spasm.

"You also talk back; don’t you have any respect for your elders?"

"You’re not that old." Yeah, we do talk like that and show respect for our elders; he’s one of them, but I’m trying to pretend that I have no idea what he’s talking about, and the best way to do that is to be snarky, sarcastic, and a bitch. "You’re what..35."

Watching him watch me with no expression on his face was enough to tell me he was in a don’t fuck with me’ mood. He stands up, making the bed move slightly. He brushes his hair back somehow, making it messier than it already was. The fact was that the man had too much hair on his head.

Big, bad, and hairy.

I thought my very own monster was about to hurt me by torturing the truth from me when he said, "I don't know if you're telling the truth, but if you are, you have no idea the mess you're in."