Two Of A Kind ⍟ Kai Parker

SIXTEEN

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐀

I wake up to the feeling of fingers pressing harshly on my temples. I slap those fingers aside. Opening my eyes, I found Kai staring back at me. We are in his room.

"What are you doing?" I ask but I get no answer. A talisman catches my attention. It was the same one I used on him to get in his head.

I knew he had his intentions when he started acting all gentlemanly and romantic. I can't say I am surprised.

I snatch the talisman from his hand, "foolish of you to think you can make this work,"

"And why is that?" He asks. Anger is visible on his face.

"It only works with people blood related to Grandie. You are not blood-related,"

A pregnant silent.

"I told you. I am not going to give you the spell. There is no way you can get it out of me until we meet a Bennett, which is probably never,"

I can't tell him the spell just yet. It is the only thing that is keeping him from tossing me away or turning this world into a literal hell for me. He will need me for the spell.

He storms out of the room without saying anything. I get to my room, take a shower. Walking into the kitchen, it's empty, no Kai to be seen. There is a sandwich on a plate. I am hungry, I see food, I take it.

I was halfway through the sandwich, Kai walked in. "That... was mine,"

I shrug, "shouldn't have left it here."

"I already ate. That was a leftover," he snorts a laugh. "By the way, I am going to the beach."

"Okay... And?" I respond to which he scowls.

"Do I really have to spit it out?"

"Yeah. I am not a mind reader, so..." I am dumbfounded.

"Do I look crazy enough to go to the beach alone?" Oh, boy.

"Yeah..." I let out a laugh.

"Shut up. You are coming with me,"

"And why would I do that?" I ask.

"Because I am politely asking you and since you are a polite person, you will go with me,"

"Oh my god, you just keep getting delusional," I say shaking my head.

•••

I clutch on my leg that got injured by me tripping on air. It is bleeding.

We are back in Kai's room. I am sitting on his bed while he is gone to get the first aid kit. I am trying not to die this week.

I move a little, getting comfortable, "Hey! Don't bleed on my bedsheet," he screeches.

"Really? You care about the bedsheet and not my open wound?" I say.

"Obviously. I don't want to change the bedsheets again," of course.

He pours some antiseptic liquid on the wound and smears some medicine before closing it with a bandaid. He has his lower lip tugged between his teeth as he does that.

"Stop looking at me like that," I don't respond to it with anything, so he continued, "I can't care about you even if I wanted to. I can't. I can fake it to give you some comfort but I do not care about you. I am the only one I can care about."

"Yet you treated my wound when I have well-working hands," I wave my hands at him showing that they work.

"You would have done that too if you were in my shoes," he simply shrugs.