Chapter 17: 𝑻𝒆𝒂

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The strong winds hitting on the window broke me out of my trance. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened between me and Hunter, that little dance we had in the rain, the conversation, and the undeniable comfort. Everything was eating away at my mind, and I felt like I was losing my grip on reality.

Hunter, on the other hand, remained unchanged in his usual calm and level-headed demeanor. It seemed as if nothing could faze him, leaving me constantly wondering what thoughts lurked behind his enigmatic gaze. Each time he spoke to me or looked at me with those eyes that seemed to hold so much more, it only intensified my desperate attempt to decipher his true feelings.

The heavy rain from the previous night left a chilly atmosphere outside. Hunter had decided to work from home, and in a peculiar moment of motivation, I decided to make him a snack. I couldn't quite explain why I felt compelled to do it, perhaps out of sheer boredom.

I set out to recreate the tea I had seen Hunter make for himself before. Two spoonfuls of sugar and honey were slowly stirred into the warm cup, followed by a touch of milk. The sweetness was almost dangerously delightful, but it tasted just as good as I remembered.

Balancing the tray with the steaming cup of tea and freshly baked muffins, I made my way to Hunter's workspace. He appeared to be deeply engrossed in his work, but the moment he caught sight of me, he immediately abandoned it, redirecting his attention solely towards me. It was a gesture that caught me off guard, leaving me curious about what was going through his mind.

I attempted to excuse myself, not wanting to disrupt his workflow, but Hunter insisted that I stay. And so, we began to discuss an upcoming project. Despite my lack of experience as a college student, Hunter sought my input, valuing my perspective and challenging my ideas. He didn't simply agree with me; he questioned and probed my suggestions. Engaging in this discussion made me feel as though I was part of a real business meeting, keeping me busy and focused that morning.

"Hey Hunter, can I ask you a question?" I asked, my body sinking into the sofa as I braced myself for what might come next.

"Sure," he replied, his response immediate and devoid of hesitation.

"I've been wrestling with this thought for a while now. Do you have any ties to a gang, or an underworld organization?" I inquired, my voice laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

He paused, his eyes locking onto mine with a piercing intensity. "How did you come to that conclusion?" he asked.

I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to explain my reasoning. "Since that  day I managed to escape, I couldn't shake off the memory of that police officer. He was genuine, a real law enforcement officer, not one of your people. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of fear when he laid eyes on Zack. It got me thinking, Hunter. If you were merely a deranged thrill-seeker who killed for fun, the police would have no reason to fear individuals like you. They wouldn't tremble in the presence of someone that bought them off either. So, I couldn't help but wonder if there's a darker underbelly to your world," I confessed, my words carefully chosen.

A flicker of something indescribable passed across his face, a mixture of surprise, intrigue, and perhaps even admiration. "That's one of the things I love about you, you're really smart" he remarked, his voice carrying a touch of genuine appreciation.

A pout formed on my lips as I retorted, "Hey, wasn't that already blatantly obvious to you?"

A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he responded, "Yes, it was, but it's still refreshing to witness your intellect in action."

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