Island of Lies (18+)

8

Chicken was prepared and taken care of.

Smell tingled my nose which scrunched in disgust.

I think that I'll just stick to the mashed potatoes this night. For no particular reason chicken started to disgust the shit out of me. Whenever I eat it, I think abou the veins, bones and of course the poor animal that was killed. I always lost my apetite when I started to think like that. I can't even eat sunny side eggs with sour cream which I absolutely adored. But I don't mind. I would love to be a vegetarian or to atleast eat fish. But I hate fish. So that's a no no for me.

I usually don't help Brig in the kitchen because I can't stand food lately, but with a little bit of force I can eat something. Today I'll think that I will statsfy with pickled cabbagge and pickles. Opening mineral water I turn towards the living room.

Mrs. Campbell was seated in front of the huge and old fireplace, knitting gloves for the upcoming winter. She seemed genuinely statisfied with the work that we did today, which can not be told for her son, who's been anxious since his little stunt on the balcony. Does he know that I was awake for the whole fucking time?

My shyness wouldn't let me do the first move. I wanted to ask him hundred thousand questions. But which one should be first? Have no idea...

He avoids me as much as possible, but whenever he hears my voice he jerks towards my direction.

As far as I knew he didn't want to have anything to do with me, and suddenly he jerked himself off with the help of my feet and pretended that everything was fine. Boomer. He didn't pretend that everything was fine. Horrendous face expression filled with horror after he realised that I was awake during the most of it made him run off like a goddamn child.

I should be disgusted by his action, but my panties are fucking soaked. I feel the wet and moist sounds my vagina makes.

The fire is ignited inside, and the pulsation can be prevented in only one way.

But not here. Not in Brigita's house because that would express great disrespect to her. For Gods sake Im not a wild animal that I cant stop my instincts and needs!

He started it. He reawakened an avalanche of obsession that I managed to calm down.

I suppressed my sick feelings that were developing towards this man, but this on the balcony encouraged me not to give up.

I will win him over.

Even if I have to have a different identity.

And different name.

But I won't give up.

Sitting across me, he doesn't even look up. His eyes are strictly fixated to his cellphone, not giving a damn about myself and my feet.

Brigita brings in the food and I help her set the table while Mrs. Campbell visibly scolds her son for something that I didn't have a chance to catch up.

I have no fricking idea how the hell will I start a conversation with him. Abasement was constantly on my mind, but I shouldn't be the one who's abased. Right?

I did nothing wrong. Exepct I was oggling at him right now and my vagina was practically begging me for the release. Abomination was visible in his eyes if you looked at them long enough. The tension between us could be sliced with a knife and I wasn't going to be the one who will break it off. Not in a chance.

Person who deserved a well, sincere apology was me. Using my sleepyness and unconciousness was definitely fucked-minded. And still there was no remorse, no guilt in the blue jems that always shone coldness.

"Eat." Brigita nudges me, but I'm not hungry. Certainly, not for the food.

Scraping my plate with the silver fork, mashed potatoes turn into big lumps. I crave broccoli soup actually, because it's a fluid and my mind instantly registers it as not-much-calorie so it is safe to eat and enjoy without gaining weight. But I'm not meanie, not today and I won't bug Brigita to leave the guests and to stand behind to stove, while her tired legs wait for the water to boil. No.

I could cook the soup myself, but it'll make her sad. Whatever I do will make her sad so my choices are pretty much limited.

"So, what was the fight all about?" Raised voice, but not above a whisper leaves Brigita's mouth.

Bitting the corner of my lips, I try to think of the most likely believable answer.

"He doesn't want me to work in a Hospital." Mrs. Campbell stops the conversation she had led with her son and starts listening to my woe.

"And why is that, my dear?" Scratching my scalp, I look up, roaming over the old chandelier thinking about this foolishness.

It is half of the truth.

Our fight was totally abou something tenth, but his disapproval was also lingering and clawing at my mind.

"I-I don't know, I mean I do but..." Harshly leaning on the armrest of the dining chair, I sigh and look over seeing the devil himself, smirking, obviously remembering our divine enqounter. Gritting my jaw I wait for his stupid remark

"Man is reasonable. Why would he let his daughter, for the love of God, to work in a shitty Hospital? Why, when she can have the world?" Collan looked up to me, clearly unamused, with a dumb look crossed over his handsome face.

"Hospital is my world. Saving lives is my world. Brining lives on to this world is also everything to me. You wouldn't understand."

His eyes were now intense. Mad. Brigita and Mrs. Campbell were now glanicng against each other looking hell of a lot confused. They weren't sure what was going on, why the sudden tension. I waited for his response. Apology. I truly did. But nothing came out.

With that said, I got up and stormed off home.

               ____________________

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