Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I cut up the meat with the plate on my lap. Spearing a piece, I pinched my lips together as I brought it up to his mouth, thinking about how I’d made choo-choo sounds at him under my breath the day before when I’d fed him because it made me cackle quietly. He didn’t even look at me as he opened his mouth and bit in, chewing slowly.
I gave him mashed potatoes, and it was on the bite of carrots that he finally glanced over.
I gave him a level look and shoved another piece of meat into his face, taking in the brilliant purple in his eyes. I still couldn’t get over the unreal shade of his pupils, and I didn’t have anything to complain about. Mine were a clear, light brown that came across as hazel sometimes. I got them from my grandpa’s side. His skin had been a deep reddish brown, a little darker than mine, and his almost-whiskey color had been incredible. What color were The Defender’s parents’ eyes like? I wondered. Did he even have parents? There was the chance he’d been made in a test tube after all.
“So… while you’re awake, you might as well know, The Centurion was spotted in Bangladesh two days ago.” I gave him some more mashed potatoes that he took without a glance. “A building collapsed, and he helped find the injured.”
He didn’t bother looking at me again, but I could tell he was listening from the way his cheek muscles moved as he ate.
I speared some carrots and brought them up to his mouth, earning myself a flash of a sharp canine before he ate it. “He seemed fine.” More than fine, really. The Centurion had the tightest little butt. I couldn’t help but look at it every time someone filmed it. Then again, that was probably half of humanity.
My answer was a side-look while he chewed.
“In one of the parts of footage I found, something about his face looked really… I don’t know, concerned or something. I might be imagining it. Want to see?”
That got him to turn his head.
He had such a nice jawline, and that wasn’t me thinking that because of a lack of handsome jaws I’d been in the presence of.
“Yes,” he actually answered.
“Okay. When you finish eating, I’ll show you.”
He faced forward again, this time looking thoughtful even though his expression was still that normal, pissy, tight one that told me how he would rather be anywhere but here. Same here, Sleeping Superhero Beauty. He had no idea I hadn’t been sleeping through the night from being worried about my stomachache, which had conveniently been coming and going since he’d gotten here.
Maybe it was because of him, but more than likely it was telling me that I needed to leave. Either way, they were both issues that were stressing me the fuck out. I was worried I was in danger having him here, but he hadn’t brought up leaving yet, and I didn’t want to be rude and bring it up. Staying wasn’t an option, even though I wanted it to be.
You’d figure I would have been used to it by now though. Wanting things I couldn’t have. Wanting things I had no control over.
Andddd I was depressing the shit out of myself for no reason.
I didn’t waste time worrying about things I couldn’t control anymore. At least for the most part. Most of the time.
Figuring that was all I was going to get, I fed him the rest of what was on the plate, content with being ignored while he kept watching television. But I kept thinking about all the things I wanted to ask him and couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Part of me still couldn’t wrap my head around how he was here and injured so severely. He hadn’t asked to move around since coming to the bed.
I really had to keep most of my curiosity to myself, as hard as it was.
I got up to rinse his plate, still thinking about my crabby, secretive guest, and tried to imagine life a month from now. When I was done, I made my way back to the bedroom, grabbing my laptop from my office, and took a seat on the floor beside the bed so that I wouldn’t accidentally hurt him. His attention was still on the screen, so I was surprised when he asked, “Are you… going to show me… what you found?”
I slid him a side-look as I opened my computer.
He tipped his head down and gave me a side-look right back.
“Can you read my mind?” I whispered, instantly regretting it.
Fortunately, The Defender just did what I was beginning to think was one of the things he did best—stare.
“O-kay,” I muttered. I was going to pretend I hadn’t asked. The answer was a no. I’d just wanted to be sure. If it wasn’t, he could only blame himself for being nosy.