CHAPTER 4
"Morrison... Open the fucking door..." His voice became clearer and his fingers more firm as he kept knocking on the door. I picked out the first piece of clothing my hand managed to find. Good. A pair of white cotton panties. Were they white? My vision was blinded by the darkness, so I could make only mere assumptions. I let my hand travel in the drawer once again. Knock, knock, BANG.
This sudden need of his made me annoyed. Like I wasn’t annoyed enough with all the debauchery that went down today.
I drew out a t-shirt and pulled it over my head rather quickly. With a swift movement my fingers turned the lock, turning the door knob right after. Duke was just a step away from falling through my door, since he was apparently boosting himself against it.
"What?" I hissed through my teeth, getting blind from the sudden brightness. His bare chest was just an inch away from my face. Duke yawned in my face, making me turn away from the disgusted stench of alcohol in his breath. And there I was, thinking people actually cleaned their teeth before they went to sleep.
My frustrated gaze went over his body, I nearly licked my lips as I saw a pair of sweatpants loosely hanging on his hips. I had to admit, he head a great physique. Too great for a beer diet. He turned around right when I was starting to enjoy the view. Bastard.
"See officers? She’s here. Can we all, please, close the case and go back to sleep?" Duke turned his back against me. Officers? I limped outside the room peeking over his tanned shoulder. Two men in black uniforms were standing in our door isle.
"Certainly. Sorry for intrusion, sir... ma’am..." Duke moved from his place, surprising me with his motion and making me nearly land on my face. Flat.
Before he managed to close the door, I saw a glimpse of doubt in one of the officer’s eyes. Or so I thought. Maybe I was getting paranoid. God, I had a stressful job.
"What was that about?" I stood in the door isle, hiding my wounded leg and trying to make as dumb of a face as I possibly could. For once I hoped my acting skills wouldn’t fail me.
"There’s been a gas leak. They’re checking every house in the neighborhood. See if everyone’s safe." So then nobody had been killed? And they definitely weren’t looking for a killer of my gender, my height and my age? Of course they were. Lying to the citizens who paid taxes and ensured them with their salary was not really the best way of gaining their trust. Tsk-tsk-tsk. I would’ve shaken my head in disapproval if only I wouldn’t need to look sane in Duke’s eyes.
He was almost to walk through his door, almost. He stopped and turned on his heel, breaking the distance between us. His forearm pressed against the door isle as he looked down on me.
"You know what I don’t get..." He leaned closer, leaving me perplexed of the sudden closeness. Our faces were just inches apart.
"What..." It was barely louder than a whisper. What? Now I’m whispering? I was watching his lips, not really knowing why. A warm feeling ran down my belly. Oh come on, woman! You’re better than that! Guided by a sudden wave of bravery, I straightened my back and crossed my arms.
"Why did I have to knock on your door for ten fucking minutes..." He pursed his lips. I blinked a couple of times. Really? Was he the person who was setting the laws around here? My fingers tightened around my upper arm.
" I was… sleeping." I wrinkled my eyebrows in confusion. Why was I confused? How dared he speak to me in that tone?!
"Then mind telling me why,-" he came closer and took a glance over my shoulder, "-is your bed untouched? And your hair dripping wet?" His browns locked with mine.
Was it? Did I make my bed this morning? But knowing my pedantic nature – I absolutely effing did. I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure and restraining myself from putting a bullet between his lovely browns right then and there.
"None of your goddamn business," I hissed in his face, my face suddenly losing all signs of emotion.
"Elle," He started in a somewhat calmer manner, and just like that, I realized his hand is cupping the side of my face.
"Don’t," I hissed, angrily hitting his hand away.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He looked shocked. So finally he was getting any notice of what I did and said to him. It only took a slight shove. "Here I am … Trying to look out for you, and you just go fucking psycho!" Anger. Good, it was exactly what I needed. Somehow angry people managed to calm me down.
"Instead of trying to look out for me," I widened my eyes, reflecting him and mocking at the same time, "You could try and do what you’re asked for." For a slight second I thought he was actually going to hit me. His palm was already formed into a fist and his eyes were shooting daggers at me. "You know, the trash can is not going to empty itself and the fridge also doesn’t have the option of refilling." A playful smile formed on my lips. I was pushing him, pushing him hard. I wanted to see if he would go over the edge. He leaned closer, his lineament tense. This was actually the first time I saw him as fed up with something over these four months he was living with me.
"No…" His hand pushed against the wall, he backed away. Smart move. He went to his room, cussing heavily under his breath.
"Good night!" Door closing with a bang was the reply to my overly sweetened voice. One of the rare pictures I had of myself fell off the beige wall. The glass of the frame shattered, making me sigh heavily. "There was no need for the tantrum…" Sometimes I asked myself, why did I put up with the psychos?