Attraction, desire, and sinfully beautiful, Mika Santana is a devil with the face of an angel. Despite her tragic past, she's never given up her ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance which leaves little to no room for matters of the heart. But...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Maybe I'm not invincible.
Monsters can get hurt too. Physically and emotionally. The sensation of fire stings my shoulder as I toss my sweater over my head. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, so the fact that a gun has me gritting my teeth makes me feel weak. My cheek has a slash from the bridge of my nose to my jaw.
He should've at the very least cut from my lip so I could look like the Joker. He's my role model. That psychopath-- we go well together.
The blood is dry, relaxing on my cheek like decoration. On the corner of my lips is another drop of blood, along with my badly bruised nose. My shoulder is painted in black-blue hues as I press down on them. There's an odd satisfaction I get from pushing down on my wounds and getting energized from the sting.
I freeze when I hear his heavy footsteps coming to the bathroom. A heavy, ominous angst cloud consumes us as the rain soaks into our skin. I keep my eyes in front of me to watch out for him and slowly straighten my back. He's done the one thing I never wanted him to do. He killed. I heave a sigh as I lower the sleeve of my shoulder off my shoulders, gnawing at my lip for a distraction from the pain.
He killed him to save you, Mika.
Then I freeze, because Asiel suddenly appears. His fluffy hair flops over his big emerald eyes as he walks in with arms full of treatments. I hold my breath, wondering why I can't move. It's like someone spilled glue all over the floor and forgot to warn me. He turns his head lazily, and his hooded, dark eyes meet mine.
Anguish.
"Sit on the counter," he demands quietly. The way he's staring at me makes me erupt into goosebumps. "Mika, sit on the counter."
I feel like I'm floating on the dark cloud in an alternate universe where everything has changed. Wait, that's real life. I hesitate for a few more moments, and Asiel just stares, waiting. He pulls in a silent breath, and an involuntary gasp slips out when a sudden pair of hands grab my waist, lifting me to the bathroom counter.
"Shirt off," he demands.
His eyes become sharper, piercing me as I take my shirt off while keeping a neutral expression. All I can do is stare at the wall, trying to ignore how rapidly my heart is beating out of my chest. A moment later, he gets close enough to throw my hair into a ponytail. Does he hate me now? Did he overhear Luka's annoying monologue? The thought drives a shiver up my spine that I manage to shake off.
He firmly grabs my cheek, lifting it to face him. "This might sting a little."
"O-okay," I mutter, holding my breath while waiting for his next move.
Asiel dabs a cotton ball on my lower lip, and the sting causes me to click my tongue. The warmth of his body leaks through my skin as he steps in between my legs for better access. I'm gulping, choking on my own spit as he continues to treat me. I don't want to say the wrong thing. Having compassion is a new ball game for me-- how am I supposed to help him?
