The Taste of Silver | Fortune's Fool #2

23 | million dollar question

I bit his hand.

Gabriel didn't even flinch, his emotionless face locked in place like stone.

Lovely.

Why did he have to be a damn robot?

I mumbled against his hand, my words inaudible from the pressure of his palm.

"Fine, I won't scream."

The second he let go, I yelled in anger.

"I hope they choke on their words and die from asphyxiation-"

His hand slammed over my mouth again as a frustrated sound escaped him. To be fair, it was the most emotion I'd seen from him since Louisa's return. "For Christ's sake, Talisa. Just calm down for a moment."

The fury clouded my mind and unfortunately, the same cycle continued for the next few minutes until I collapsed onto the bed completely exhausted. Judging by how out of breath he was, I'd clearly put up a good fight.

We lay in silence for a few minutes on the battered king size bed, my chest heaving from the immense volume of emotions that had rattled through me. The atmosphere was weirdly comfortable.

That was what drew me to him. The fact that I never had to explain myself. He had no expectations of me and I had none of him.

"Pass me a cig."

He threw the whole pack at me, the only remaining sign of his vexation. It bounced off my eyebrow and I glared hard.

Another few minutes of silence passed before he spoke. The tone of his voice was as resigned as ever when he pulled himself up with one arm to rest again the headboard of the bed. "Talisa, what is the issue? Like what's going on?"

There was something sunken in his eyes as if Gabriel had asked that question a lot in his life.

Biting back a laugh at the simplicity yet complexity of his question, I followed suit and sat up straight. "Well, isn't that the million dollar question?"

I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling his muscles tense up under me. This time I did laugh. "Go on then, shove me off liubimiy." I noticed how his breath quietened. When Gabriel stayed completely still, not a rustle from his short and his jawline tensed, I gave him a sarcastic look. "Do it. Gosh, don't tell me you've gone soft. I despise sympathy."

At his lack of response, I rested my head against his shoulder again. Clearly deep in thought, he wordlessly took the cigarette from between my full round lips and took a long drag, tipping his head to the ceiling. His eyes were shut, sharp contours of his face casting shadows.

The curtains were still drawn tightly, refusing entry from the beams of golden rays outside. It was broad daylight yet something about the midnight-like serenity lingering in the dark room quelled my agitated mind. An idea came drifted to me.

"You know what? Let's play a game," I said quietly. Gabriel looked at me with uninterest yet I continued nonetheless. "You have seven days. On this cruise. Let's see if you can figure out the story behind the mess of my life?"

Gabriel eyes briefly flickered open but still remained trained on the patterns across the ceiling. "And why would I do that?"

I was aware that that was code for 'I don't care about your life.'