DAY 1
__KIRA's POV__
Wednesday, 01, 10 AM
I struggle to focus my mind on preparing the meal. My fingers brush against the vegetables with precision, as if each knife stroke could slice through the dark thoughts that assail me.
All these thoughts lead to one being.
The regular sound of the blade against the wooden board resonates in the kitchen, a rhythm that tries to chase away the turmoil of my emotions.
I lose myself in the crackling of the oil heating in the pan, ignoring Nicke's scrutinizing gaze as he enters silently.
I walk to one of the cabinets above the counter and grab two glasses to serve juice. Just as I'm about to place them on the table, Nicke's breath sends a shiver down my spine, but not in a pleasant way.
He's too close, and it throws me off balance. Just like this morning, I could have messed up.
One of the glasses slips from my fingers and crashes to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. I frown, a sign of my frustration, and bend down to pick up the shards, my anger growing.
- "Great, Moya Zlaya, really great!" Nicke says with a mocking laugh.
I hate this bastard.
I straighten up abruptly, my injured hand making me wince. Damn, he really makes me lose my composure.
- "You think this is funny, don't you?" I can't help but let my hatred show.
As usual.
Nicke immediately loses his smile. He tries to keep calm, but I can see the worry in his eyes. I roll my eyes, exasperated.
He grabs my hand, but I force it away, preferring to run it under the water myself while he watches me do it.
I feel his gaze on me, a warmth flooding me, but I push it away. I don't want his compassion, not his presence. They're feigned.
- "Moya Zlaya, you could be a bit more careful," he says, his voice tinged with false sweetness, disguising the anger I now see in his eyes.
- "And you could learn to respect my personal space," I retort, my voice sharp. But I guess that's too much to ask.
A moment of silence settles between us, charged with tension. Nicke steps closer. He whispers in my ear, wrapping an arm around me from behind, and I feel a wave of warmth wash over me.
- "Kira," he says, sending a trail of shivers through me, but not the kind I want to feel.
Kira, he's a damn psychopath.
I turn to him, teeth clenched, ready to retaliate, but as I dive into his deep blue eyes, I realize I'm trapped.
An irresistible curiosity pulls me beyond my defenses, but I push it away. I can't trust him.
- "What do you want, Nicke? Do you really have something to say?" I ask, my voice weaker than I would have liked.
He seems hesitant, as if weighing his words before speaking.
- "Don't hurt yourself in front of me anymore," he breathes, running his hands through his black hair, preventing me from deciphering the emotion on his face.
- "As if you really cared. You're just here to entertain yourself at my expense," I retort, sarcasm piercing my voice.
The shards of glass scattered on the floor seem to reflect the light.
Nicke, though calm on the surface, exudes a dominant aura of malice. I can see his mind turning, searching for the right words to break the silence that has settled between us.
- "Listen, Moya Zlaya, I didn't want it to go like this. I know I can be unbearable, but I'm not your enemy," he finally says, his tone becoming more serious.
- "Maybe I'm tired of what's between us," I finish, surprised myself by what I just said.
He looks at me with curiosity.
- "What's between us, Kira?" he asks, amused and intrigued by the situation.
I frown, surprised by his question.
- "You know very well what's between us, Nicke. This attention you give me, I don't want it. Everything that connects us is Furz and Exus, and absolutely nothing else," I finish, inhaling with difficulty because of his presence.
He leans slightly forward, his expression serious.
- "Maybe it's more complicated than that. Maybe there's something else, something we need to explore," he replies, moistening his pink lips that I can't seem to take my eyes off.
I stare at him, perplexed.
- "You mean you think there's a chance I could fall into the arms of a limitless man? I can't help but laugh, but it's a bitter laugh.
-Sure! Here's the continuation of the translation:
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- "You're really off the mark. That's not like you," I finish, laughing sincerely this time.
- "Why not?" he says, his tone challenging. "There's chemistry between us, even if you refuse to admit it."
- "Chemistry?" I shake my head, exasperated. "You mean you enjoy provoking me and making me angry? Is that your definition of chemistry?"
- "No, I mean that despite your reluctance, there's something else. An attraction, perhaps," he whispers, making me shiver. He notices my reaction and smiles.
He looks me straight in the eyes, and I feel my heart race despite myself.
- "You're insufferable," I say, but my voice lacks conviction.
I realize I'm not entirely closed off to the idea that there could be something more between us.
Kira, he's a lunatic.
- "Maybe you're just too proud to admit it, but I see how you look at me sometimes," he says, a smirk on his lips.
I look away, uncomfortable.
- "I don't look at you. I hate you, Nicke. You're a degenerate, and I know it," I say, giving him a slight shove.
He doesn't move.
- "Really? Then why are you so concerned about what I think?" He raises an eyebrow, amused.
That annoys me.
- "Maybe I'm here because I care about you," he says, his tone becoming more serious. "I don't want you to feel bad, Moya Zlaya."
I sigh, realizing I can't stay angry forever.
- "You're just being yourself after all. You must have suffered," I finish, looking at him seriously and waiting for a response.
His eyes narrow as I observe him, unable to understand his change in mood.
Then, he smiles, followed by a cold laugh, letting go of me to sit on the counter, resting his chin on his hands, watching me completely lost in front of him.
- "Is that all, Kira?" he asks now calmly, ignoring my gaze that must convey a hatred beyond words.
- "But tell me, what fascinates you so much, Moya Zlaya? What do you like to do besides meddling in other people's lives? Killing them?" he continues, his gaze turning cold again.
I'm caught off guard by his question. I've finally let myself be manipulated, even though I knew it, I knew it, damn it.
I should never have, especially with him.
- "Among killers, we recognize each other, don't worry," he answers himself, laughing sincerely.
His teeth are white, and his smile hypnotizes me, so bright it is. How can a person be so contradictory?
He's the devil in disguise.
- "You're really dangerous," I say, relaxing slightly.
He resembles me.
- "Interesting, you've recovered quite quickly," he says, nodding, looking at me with interest.
I watch him, disgusted by his interest.
- "Don't take an interest in me, Nicke," I say coldly, avoiding the glass shards to set the table.
- "It's too late; I know you like this attention," he says with a mocking smile.
I lift my eyes from his lips to meet his, icy. While he smiles, his eyes remain neutral and devoid of essence, and I shiver unpleasantly.
He analyzes me intensely.
I finally realize that I'm going to live under the same roof as a psychopath, a player, a manipulator, merciless for 30 days.
I can say it; he scares me. When I'm scared, I lose control.
And I'm afraid of the consequences to come.
- "You asked for it, Nicke," I say, inviting him to sit with me for dinner, a movement he follows without flinching.
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