My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Ocho

Chapter 8

"But do they exist?"

"No, they don't."

"Think about it, though, what if they're out there somewhere and we could find--"

"They don't exist, Xanthe."

"Then what explains you and your obsession with leather jackets?"

"What?"

"HA! So you are a vampire! You literally wear black to sleep, Arsy pants,"

"Don't call me that."

"Yeah, yeah,"

Currently, Arsen and I are having a deep conversation about vampires. Or, more specifically, him being one. And technically, I'm the only one talking.

I mean, it makes sense, right? All he ever wears is black, and even his name is somewhat dark and dangerous...kind of.

"How does wearing a leather jacket have anything to do with being a vampire?" He asks coldly, raising an eyebrow and making me smirk.

I've been trying to forget about what happened a few days ago, the night Don's gang came. A, because of him being a bad boy and B, because of him being a bad boy.

And also, because I'm not confident enough to ask about what it was, exactly.

"Because leather protects you from the sun," I point out to the question before, and Arsen sighs, rubbing his face with his hands and falling back on his bed.

I guess comparing Arsen now to a few weeks ago when he first kidnapped me would be like comparing a brick to a before and after picture. Nothing's changed.

He gets angry over little things like me simply having a conversation with Don.

Jeez, what do they have against each other?

He also opposes against me going outside. He's locked me up! Although that's probably for dumb safety reasons, as Ameena so kindly pointed out for me.

Except, maybe, just maybe, I hate him a little less, now.

This still doesn't make up for the fact that...

He's a vampire. And an asshole.

"Xanthe, black leather doesn't protect anyone from the sun, the colour attracts heat and the thickness of it makes you warmer, so shut up," He growls, finally removing the hands from his face.

Speaking of heat, why am I suddenly feeling so hot?

I shrug.

"I'm just saying..." I trail off, smirking at him.

He just raises an eyebrow and gets up, walking across the room to the door.

Before walking out, however, he stops and turns to me, his face the same impassive, cold-stone self.

"Xena used to love vampires," He says deeply, looking at my lips since his eyes won't meet mine.

My heart falters at the way he's looking at me, and I kind of feel like punching my stomach for the butterflies in them.

How did they even get in there?

I decide to ask something different from normal.

"Did you love her?"

He pauses, and his eyes meet mine for a millisecond before turning to look around at his room.

He leans against his door casually, causing the air to go unusually warmer. For me.