Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter 5|Sizzling Chemistry.


ISABELLE's P O V

The smell of trees and the sounds of birds chirping in the wild always got to me in a way I couldn't explain. Even though I had no idea if they were of interest to me in my previous life I knew they were as important to me as the next breath I was to take.

Alexander and I have been on friendly grounds, we took care not to make body contact or unnecessary looks. Day by day the chemistry between us was growing until it felt like it was too unbearable to tolerate.

Today was the day his stitches were supposed to be taken out. In a way I'm dreading the event while in another I am anticipating it.

Right now I was wringing the towel in my hand nervously. He'd gone to take a bath while I dusted the kitchen awaiting his return.

"That rag might tear from the way you're holding it." He commented, I took my eyes off the water that was dripping from his neck into the tattered shirt he wore. "You seem tense, is anything wrong?" His brows pulled into a frown as he said this while I did my best to act nonchalant.

"No, everything is alright. Why?" I asked.

"You looked like you were ready to murder the closest thing to you and unfortunately that rag in your hand seems to be the victim." He smiled.

It felt sinful to enjoy his attentions especially because I knew that one day his memories will return and I'll be an item from his past.

The thought brought a stinging sensation to my heart and I cooled it off with thoughts on the positive.

I'm letting myself enjoy it while it lasts.

"It really was nothing. I'm done cleaning, all that's left for me is to check up on those stitches of yours and hopefully we'll get the threads out today. Brace yourself." I grinned playfully pushing away from the counter and hanging the hand towel on its rack.

"I'm not anticipating that." He muttered under his breath.

"Don't tell me you're scared? You're not, right? I mean, you cannot be scared of me taking off your stitches, right?" I asked him trying my best to hide the smile that was threatening to surface.

He huffed and raised a brow, "I'm ready for whatever you're up to. In fact I was born ready for this," He paused raking his eyes over what I was casually holding.

A pair of scissors.

"I've never knew that scissors were necessary in taking off stitches, aren't you just expected to take one side of the thread and pull." He sounded worried now I felt like letting up my ruse.

"No, we'll use this to cut them to pieces for easier removal but you must be careful and steady else a fresh stitch might be required." Well, this isn't a total lie but I could easily take off the stitch without the scissors.

A little knife is all I need if it proves to be resistant to my touch.

He gave me a calculated stare but shrugged those broad shoulders of his and gestured to the living room with his hand.

"Lead the way then." He replied making space for me to pass without making contact.

We so were making enough body contact today it's not necessary for more.

Quietly and with precise steps we moved to the living room. It was both ironic and funny how quietly he walks for his size. Just imagine this large man walking without hearing the sounds of his steps. The normal expectation is for his steps to be loud and forceful but it was quite the opposite.

He sat on the only couch in the sitting room and carefully unbuttoned his dress shirt.

It was sensual how he did it with his eyes in mine, we both were caught in a trance until he cleared his throat and broke the little world we were briefly pulled into.

"I'm ready." He voiced out.

I willed my trembling fingera to quit shaking else I'll be the laughing matter between us. I was the one who just taunted him not to be scared but it feels like the fear is taking root in my body.

The steps I took to him felt like they were a hundred while in reality they were a few. He took off the shirt in a deliberately sensual manner before tossing it to side and placing his hands at the back of his head.

"Let me get my pouch." I muttered under my breath and moved in a rush to get it.

Being this close to him never seizes to drain what little there is of my energy.

I took the pouch and returned to my previous position before him, I hovered over his form ignoring his unwavering stare. One minute he was avoiding the attraction between us the next he's encouraging it. It's always like that with him.

With courage that was far greater than the one I summoned when I first took him into this cottage and took off his trousers I placed my left hand on his chest while my eyes examined the wound on a physician-like closer level for proper perusal.

I looked about for signs of infections or torn parts and found none. A sigh of relief slipped past my lips and wafted a soft breeze over his chest. It rippled visibly making me chew on my lower lip to hide the smile that was threatening to blossom.

His reactions are priceless.

My finger pricked at the edge of one side of the stitch and pulled slightly. Not even a gasp could be heard from him, it was as though I was making an experiment on a dummy. I prodded at the thread and felt it's severity before bringing my knife closer to the skin and muttering under my breath "Stay as still as a statue." I pricked on the first stitch then drew out its thread, repeated the same action on the long line of the wound until I reached the end.

After pulling out the final thread I dabbed cotton wool on the scar it was definitely going to leave and let it dry. There was no need to apply poultice or any other wet remedy else it'll be a recipe for disaster.

I had no memory of stitching anyone's wounds but I had a good idea that this was what I was supposed to do.

"And we're done. I commend you highly for staying as still as you did, if it were someone else myself included it would've been a nightmare for me to watch while someone does this to me." I cringed at the thought.

I hate the sight of blood, the stench of it. It all repulses me and sometimes gets to my head until I feel like swooning.

But the sight of blood on him and now the sight of the scar left by the injury only makes my blood heat with anger. Anger I have no idea where it's coming from.

"I'm one of a kind. That's why." He joked, taking his shirt and attempting to pull it on.

I stopped him by placing my hand on his, he halted his actions and stared at our adjoined limbs. "I think it's best I mend this shirt first, it has one too many holes on it and it's getting colder by each passing day. You can warm yourself by the hearth and I'll be done mending this in the blink of an eye. Trust me."

"Doesn't it scare you that you can stitch up both skin and clothes. For a person your size you do not seem to be afraid of anything."

Ironic.

"Well, it's not about the size. I don't welcome challenges with open arms but when they're presented to me I work them up until I am the winner. I'm a sucker for victory."

As I said this I moved about until I had the small basket that has all the pins, needles, threads, buttons, wools, you name it and whatnots in my hand. I took a stool and sat behind him but not before taking a huge sniff of the shirt.

It smelt masculine, just like him.

That's because he just took it off. A voice in my head deadpans and I shook it to get rid of it.

I hope he doesn't see me making a fool of myself.

"I can only imagine, so tell me what your greatest challenges are about this place. It seems to me that you love being here."

"Well, firstly it's the peace and quiet. At times when I feel content being here a voice in my head tells me it's only because I cannot remember being anywhere but here. But nonetheless I feel a sort of strong connection with this cottage and the woods in general. It makes me feel protected as if I cannot be hurt here." I explained.

He replied with a mere nod because I turned right at that time and caught him in the act.

"I find it nice being here too, but for me it's probably because I don't remember being anywhere else. I enjoy the company though." He added the last part with a smile.

A huge blush covered my cheeks to all skin below my neck.

"Thank you." I whispered and placed his newly mended shirt into his awaiting hands.

Alex collected the shirt and held unto the hand that extended the shirt to him before holding my gaze and using his thumb to run circles within my palm. "No, Thank you."

His voice was rough with gratitude as I shyly returned his smile.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter