Chapter 9. Face to face

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Xara's POV.

The lunch went... Well, it went pretty awkward, what I want to say. Knowing that Romeo had had no idea how to use a spoon was really weird, I mean, I understand that Admins didn't need to eat at all - I was one of them - but they tought me how to do it down in Sunshine Institute... Gah! At least one good thing that place has given me.

But Romeo... If he had trouble using forks and spoons, who knows how many other things he couldn't do? Was it now my duty to teach him?! What if he had no idea how to craft?! Or how to do gardening?! Or how to use shower?! Was I supposed to teach him how to shower?!

John Doe, every passing second makes me want to kill you.

When he finally finished, I sighed with relief. Romeo's been eating that goddamn soup for almost half an hour! By the time he swallowed the last spoonful, he had spilled the soup all around his bowl, on the floor, on his chair and even his overgrown hair had some mushrooms in it! Not to mention his clothes, which were soaking wet. My patience was shattered to pieces as he whimpered patheticly, looking at the mess. It surely looked like we both knew who'd have to clean everything up. Surely not me.

- Wash these bowls and spoons in the sink. - I ordered, and he knew so much better than to argue. - Then leave them to dry nearby. There are a mop and some rags in a closet near the stairway, I want you to clean up all this mess.

Romeo nodded, almost eagerly, before taking both bowls and carrying them over to the sink. I smirked, knowing that there was not much for me to do here. At least, he knew how to clean up, it was good enough.

In fact, I slowly went to the living room and examined the window. Yep. I hadn't noticed it before, but there obviously was a long crack crossing the glass. It wasn't good. Through that crack cold winds might blow into the house, and since Romeo is going to live right in this room, I might as well try to get rid of that crack. Wouldn't want him to catch cold... Wait. Has he ever felt sick before? I surely hoped he'd had, because it wasn't hard for me to remember how hard I was freaking out when I had first gotten the flu. Is he even immune-

CRACK

Something thudded, something crashed and somebody yelped. I whipped my head towards the direction of the kitchen, as a result losing my balance. Frantically waving my hands around in attempts to stop my fall, my palm smashed into the window. The broked glass cut my hand and the chilly wind blew in as I managed to stand up straight, cursing at tiny cuts in my skin.

- What the hell?! - I yelled, shaking some blood off my hand and stumbling to the kitchen. - Romeo, I swear, if you did any...
I stopped apburtly, staring at the man on the floor. He was struggling to get himself up on his feet, but it wasn't easy considering his wrists were still cuffed together. Near him, there lied a chair on its side. For a few moments I stared at the scene in front of me, before my enemy somehow managed to push himself onto his feet.

- Ahem. - I cleared my throat. - And what is the meaning of this?
He harshly turned around, shaking his head a little to move his hair out of his face. My eyes narrowed, and he hung his head, staring either at the floor or at my blood-covered hand. I couldn't really figure it out because of his hair stil hiding his face.
- Well? - I insisted as he bent down to pick up the chair.

Romeo sighed and started to do these weird gestures, but stopped instantly when I raised a hand.
- Speak. - My words came out in a growl. - Is it that hard to remember?!
He flinched and whispered silently:
- I tripped over.
It took me a few seconds to translate his whisper into some words.
- How? - I asked. - Didn't you see a goddamn chair?
He shook his head, and a few more strands of hairs joined the curtain in front of his face. How could he not notice a chair?! It's, what, about half of his body in height?

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