>>Clio
My heart raced as he stared at me. Dread knotted within me as his words hung in the air,
"Take my clothes off?" My guard rose up, "Why?" I kept looking at him with a suspicious gaze. His gaze held mine, and for a moment, time seemed to hang suspended and all I could hear was my heart drum in my ears. The weight of his request pressed down on me, and a mixture of fear and vulnerability churned within my chest.
As I hesitated, my instincts warring with my emotions, he seemed to sense my internal struggle.
"Oh!" He shook his head and took something out of the cabinet, "I phrased it wrong, I meant take the clothes off in a sense to pull them up so I can see your injuries."
"Huh?" I was still confused but that's when I noticed what he took out of the cabinet.
It was a first-aid box
"OH!"
A flood of relief washed over my body and I relaxed a little, "Oh!" The knots in my stomach opened up and I took a breath of relief. But that lasted for merely a second because as he walked over to me, I processed his words again.
He wants to see my injuries?!?!
With the container in his hand, he came and crouched down on the floor right in front of me.
"Sir?" I felt nervous, "I can take care of my injuries!" I looked at him anxiously. How did he even know about my injuries in the first place? He left the ointment for me at my apartment too.
Did he-?? I had a realization. He must have seen it when I wasn't wearing my pants!
Matthew quietly looked at me, "As if," He said softly, "If you were going to take care of your injuries, you would have done it." He placed his hand on my leg and I flinched.
"B-but I, I did..." I lied
He smirked in return, "Oh, really?" He looked at me as if he knew I was lying and then he slid my pants up without warning, revealing the rough scabs on my skin.
!!!
I tried to reach for my pants but I was too late, he worked faster.
"What is this then?" He pointed at my skin and knee. He caught me lying within a second.
I reached out to my knee, trying to hide the scrapes and bruises with my hands, "That-this," The vulnerability of my situation was palpable, and I felt a flush of embarrassment creep across my cheeks, "This, um," I was trying hard to come up with an excuse but my brain wasn't braining. It started malfunctioning. The worst part was that since the places were itching, I had been rubbing and scratching them so they weren't exactly closed up either.
Matthew stared at me as I tried to come up with an excuse but his gaze only made things worse for me and I panicked even more. In the end, he just smiled and turned to look at the box.
"Let me take care of you," He said softly and I sewed my mouth shut.
Oh, Clio! Why are you so stupid?!?! WHY! OH! WHY!!?
He took out some alcohol wipes and an ointment along with some cotton swabs. He then gently placed his hand on my bare skin and looked up at me only to pass me a grin.
It made my heart skip a beat while he seemed unfazed as he started doing his work. I watched as he dipped his fingers into the ointment, his touch deliberate and gentle.
My heart just wouldn't calm down. The room felt awfully quiet and us being the only people in here made me feel odd.
I pursed my lips as I stared at him and wondered. He offered to take care of them but didn't ask how I got them. Usually, a person would ask that, right?
Wait a minute.
On that note, why didn't I stop him from doing this!?!? He moved up to my knee and I felt restless.
Why are things so smooth when he's involved?
"Um," All these things just weren't making sense to me, "Why didn't you ask where I got these from?"
He kept his eyes on my skin, his hand gliding on my calves sending a sort of shiver in the nerves of my body.
He took his time to answer, "Will you tell me if I asked?" He moved to my other leg, sliding up my pants and cleaning everything up.
"Well," I watched him work. His fingers brushed against my skin, cool and soothing, as applied the ointment to my scraped knees. The contact sent a shiver down my spine, and I fought to steady my breathing, to maintain a façade of composure amidst the tumult of emotions within me, "It's nothing," I looked away, "I just fell on the road while running."
His touch was light, his movements careful. He worked with a tenderness, his gaze focused on his task as he navigated the contours of my skin.
"I see," He put the big band-aids on them and I couldn't help but look at him again. He was being so gentle with me that I couldn't bring up the words and tell him I could do it myself.
I hate to admit it, but he was being so nice to me and it felt so good that I couldn't speak up.
He then moved to my arms, his face momentarily coming to see mine which caused me to panic and I averted my gaze.
He didn't say anything but from the corner of my eyes, I saw him smile.
Oh! God...
He folded my sleeve up, softly grabbed my arm as if I was something fragile and that made my feelings waver. Each stroke of his fingers sent a pulse of sensation through me, a mixture of vulnerability and a fluttering in my chest that I couldn't quite ignore.
I closed my eyes.
This is wrong.
What am I doing!? Why is my heart acting this way!? This is wrong!
Now that he was closer to my face, the proximity of his body, the faint brush of his breath against my skin, ignited a simmering heat that curled within me. It was as if the space between us had narrowed, yet still, I couldn't bring myself to tell him to stop.
Was I scared to do it? Or was I embarrassed that he caught me lying? Or was it simply because I had never gotten such delicate care before?
The ointment's coolness brought relief to my scraped skin, but it was his touch that resonated deeply. The vulnerability of being tended to by him, the intimacy of his hands on my body, created a heightened awareness of his presence. The gentle press of his fingers against my skin, the brush of his knuckles as he worked the ointment, sent my heart racing, which was wrong.
SO SO SO WRONG!
I stole glances at his profile, his expression focused yet carrying a depth of emotion which I couldn't comprehend. I noticed he had long eyelashes, his hands were big and his lips looked tender- wait, what?
I grimaced at myself.
What the fu!?!? Where the hell am I focusing!?!?
As he continued to treat my injuries, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, I couldn't help but wonder why he was doing this?
"How did you know I didn't treat them?" I whispered.
He was almost done, "I saw you rub and scratch your skin and took a guess." He finished my other arm and brought down my sleeve, then brought his face up to look at me and I couldn't tear my gaze away in time. I was going to ask him why he was doing this? Because for a boss to do this for an intern was absurd but before I could ask,
Our eyes met.
And this close up where I could see all of his facial features in detail, my eyes landed on his lips again and I suddenly remembered how he kissed me and got tense,"That day!" I blurted out, "Were you drugged?" He frowned at me.
"What day?" He asked and my heartbeat got louder. He was close, too close.
"That day... when I stayed behind in the office..." My voice got lower.
"Ah," He looked away with a disappointed expression, "Yes, you can say that."
"Really?" I got concerned, "Shouldn't you report that?"
He looked back at me and smiled
!!
It was such a charming smile it made my heart do a backflip.
"Do you want me to report it?" He placed his hands on either side of my hips and leaned in closer to me as he raised himself up, his face coming closer to mine, just a few inches away now.
"Y-yes," I looked to the side as I felt weird, "Isn't that the right thing to do?" I felt nervous.
This is wrong! Wrong! I have to stop this!! I have Nolan!
"Hmm," I could still feel his gaze on me and it felt hot. Almost as if it was burning my skin, "Maybe I will." I gulped, unsure if I should look at him or leave. But how am I supposed to leave when he's blocking the escape?
"Say?" He said and I felt like my breath got caught in my throat, "About that kiss that night," He placed his hand on mine and I malfunctioned.
My heart exploded and so did my brain and I yanked my hand away but in the process, I ended up slapping his face.
!!!
It was not my intention, I was only pulling my hand away but I wasn't thinking straight and so, I ended up hitting him.