Maybe, Baby

Twenty

The bed barely moved as I sat back down and slid my legs under the covers. Now that the light was on, I could appreciate my surroundings. Masculine dark furniture, the bed was huge with pristine white covers, the closet doors hiding the close inside it, and a closed-door that I could guess was his en-suite bathroom. The top floor was the only part of the house I had talked out of knowing. I stuck the lower parts and he never asked me to fetch anything from his room. The maids took his laundry to his room whenever I brought them, and it wasn't like I wasn't curious, but it was one of the things on the list the first time I moved in. The second floor is out of limits, yet here I am, babysat by the master of the house.

My stomach growled, a ridiculous sound if you must know, the kind of sound you only heard in movies, and yet here we were both staring down at my stomach.

"Hungry?" I shook my head instantly, but it was a lie; I was starving. I could eat a cow. "Dolores?" I hated how he used my complete name in a warning tone. I didn't want to be waited by him. It was enough with being bathed and clothed but fed, being fed by him too? He was putting me in a position that in some days ahead, I would think about this and fantasize about the what-ifs and maybe who knows what else.

I finally cave in after a stare war that he initiated by sitting down right next to me. I finally cave in and mutter a 'fine' between clenched teeth.

For some reason, I needed to know the time. The covered windows with thick dark curtains gave no view of the outside, so I required something with a clock on it. The face-down phone on his nightstand on the opposite side of the bed served for my exact porpoise. Crawling out of the covers on my hands and knees, where the phone lay face down on the nightstand. Just as I lean to get a hold of it, the thing buzzed, making me jump and pull my hand back from it. I let out a nervous giggle when my fingers clutched the excellent surface.

The screen was lit and filled with notifications, messages, calls, and emails. I bet his whole business was held under this tiny electronic device. I must have lost track of time thinking about it deep in my head because I didn't notice the door opening or the man looking at me.

"Snooping?"

Crap crap double crap.

The hard devilish thing lands precisely on my ankle, and it hurts. I even let out a small yelp of pain. What is it with me and hurting myself with inanimate objects? I look over my shoulder at him. His eyes hold an amused light in them for a second, and then he's back to being himself and something else. His eyes move to my back, and I follow his eyes to my exposed before, which means that my butt is visible. I move quickly under the sheets, but the damage is done, he's seen it, and we now avoid each other eyes. I'm sure I'm entirely scarlet. I can feel the fire on my face and chest.

I take the plate he is handing me, two toasts and a scrambled egg. I see no butter or salt sprinkled over it. Is a healthy breakfast, but I'm pretty sure it is not breakfast time. I never got the chance to look at the time, even when I held that thing for a long while. He has it now. I'm eating my food while he taps on the screen, reading whatever has been set to him while I spy on him with each bite. I'm not even tasting the food; I just eat it all and sit there with the empty plate on my lap while I sit there for long minutes. His back is to me, so I can only see how his muscles move under his shirt when he moves and the back of his head. I feel stupid by just sitting here with an empty plate. Hence, I move slowly, carefully pull the shirt to cover the essential parts and walk towards the door. I can't believe I made it outside, and he hasn't even noticed. Maybe I can escape to my room, and he won't see until I'm locked inside.

The whole house is dark, and the light coming from the outside casts shadows all over. I move slowly, careful to not bump into anything, too many accidents in one night, and I'm still lightheaded and weak. I hear movement above, so I hurry past the kitchen, leave the plate on the nearest surface, and run towards my room.

The smell hits me once I'm inside. I cover my face and move towards my messy bed. The covers are a mess, and I wince at the open bathroom and the bits on the floor. This is disgusting. I hold a corner and fold it over and take the opposite corner until having managed to cover it all, the smell still lingers in the air but without the visual, is less unpleasing. I also took out the fitted sheet and the pillowcases. I'm moving everything to the laundry room when I see him walking towards me from the corner of my right eye, I can't see him clearly, and for the feel of the air around us, he is mad at me.

"Can't you leave that for the morning?"

"No," I reply without hesitating and start working, shoving everything inside the washer, adding detergent, and start the cycle. When the machine starts working, I move a step away and turn to the opposite wall, where the cleaning products are. I reach for the bleach, but before I make contact, I'm being lifted off the floor.

"You give me no other choice." There's a harsh tone in his voice a hard slap on my behind.