She’s ridiculous.
Beautiful.
And fucking mine.
Standing there in Christmas pyjamas, baking M&M’s cookies as if she isn’t one of the most dangerous women I know.
The cookies, though, look… wrong.
I take the first bite, against my better judgment.
Fuck.
I nearly choke.
For a split second, I consider spitting it straight back onto the counter, but I make myself swallow like my life depends on it.
It’s sweet and salty at the same time, how the fuck does someone even achieve that? It shouldn’t be possible, yet here we are.
It’s cooked on the outside, oddly dry and sticky at the same time, while the inside is still raw.
I take another bite anyway.
And another.
Because she made it.
My throat is on fire, desperate for water, for anything that will help me swallow. I spot her taking two glasses from the cupboard and exhale relieved.
Then she pours milk.
Fucking milk.
I haven’t touched milk since I was a baby, but I’d drink cement right now if it did the job.
I force down the rest of the cookie and immediately reach for another.
Beside me, Adriano watches with visible scepticism, his own cookie still untouched in his hand.
After a moment, he gives in and takes a bite.
He coughs.
My blade is under the table in an instant, pressed into his side.
“Eat it,” I murmur. “All of it.And like it.”
He freezes.
Octavia glances over, her brows tighten as her attention shifts between us. A wary edge enter her eyes, but she doesn’t see the blade.
I shove half the cookie into my mouth and talk around it. “This is so fucking good.”
She narrows her eyes.
I grab another cookie and shove it straight into Adreno’s open mouth before he can think better of it.
He chokes, but I press the blade a little harder, smiling.
