*Beep* *Beep*

I rush to the microwave to take out my bowl.

"Eve, turn on Netflix." I order in the air and instantly, the large black screen on the wall lights up in colours.

"Play Euphoria season 1 episode 1."

I was grounded for three years and didn't get to watch any of the popular series my classmates talked about. So today, I am going to judge myself how hot this Nate guy is and why I have to hate him.

I jump my hot ass on that brute's couch and watch his Netflix and eat his popcorn while I chill like a rich wife.

I spend the next six hours on the couch along with pringles, popcorn, and doritos.

Not gonna lie, Nate seems like an average jock, a bit okayish type. But his dad... Ufff!

Daddy is hot as Brad Pitt. And I kinda feel a soft spot for him and myself, because I don't know why I am into psychotic men who badly need help.

What is wrong with me?

*Buzz*

Suddenly, my watch vibrates with a reminder. Protein shake.

Huh! Why would I get a notification of a drink that I have never tasted in my life?

Unless.. It is not for me.

"Oh my fucking god!" My ass jerks in the air and I instantly stand up. The cruel man of this house is returning back! 

"Eve, close Netflix and burn the tv." I immediately run to the kitchen to put the dirty bowls and glasses in the dishwasher.

"I do not understand. Come again?" The robotic voice asks me.

Stupid AI!

I find the remote and manually switch off the screen. I pull out the vacuum and let it all suck the tiny chips pieces and popcorn off the couch to remove any sort of evidence that would twitch his mental head.

I successfully delete the proof then look for his recipe for protein shake.

Two bananas.

Two spoon peanut butter.

Two scoop protein powder.

Two cup soy milk.

No sugar.

Again, no sugar! Is he diabetic or what?

My heart skips a beat as I hear the sound of a car outside. He is here already!

My hands move in panic as if I am working in Hell's kitchen and Gordon Ramsey is standing behind my ass, calling me a stupid piece of bread in front of the entire America.

I blend everything in a smooth, ugly looking paste and pour it in a tall glass for the motherfucker as he walks in through the door, emerging like a vampire king after the sunset.

Tall, wrapped in a navy blue tailored suit, looking freshly sick with jacket on his arm, a loosen tie, and dark circles underneath his tired eyes.

He appears as heartless as he is.

His green eyes narrow down on me as I stand with the glass of shake and a smile that my mother calls beautiful. "You are back. Too early."

"Actually, I am late. An hour." He tells me and I hear a clench of his teeth.

I smile more as his eyes sharpen at me like deadly knifes, just to watch him get more pissed.

"Your protein shake." I speak like sugar, something that he hates.

Dakota takes the glass from me, cautiously. He takes a sniff, then a small sip just to check if I poisoned him or not.

He waits for a few minutes, just to check for any symptom. When nothing happens, he does a bottoms up.

I control my eyes to not roll in front of him. If I wanted to kill him, I would definitely won't put poison into something I cook. Or blend.

"What are you cooking tonight?" He asks after licking his lips.

"Rum and maple steak with veggies." I swipe my sweaty hands on hips, while reading through his food time-table. 

As if the gravity is working heavy on him, his eyes lowers down to my chiffon shirt, plain black pants, and a frown climbs up to his majestic face.

"Thighs. I want chicken thighs for dinner." He says like a stubborn kid.

I blink at the sudden twist in his behaviour. "But your timetable says-"

"I changed my mind." Dakota cuts me off like a carrot, "And you, change before cooking." He points at my clothes and walks away with his mysterious gaze.

I look down at my clothes. Other than the dust from protein powder, they look fine as sunshine to me. I spin on my flip-flops and look for ingredients in the fridge.

"Turn on the blaze." I wave my hand in the air and like magic, blue rings appear on the counter. It feels like I am in hogwarts. Things work on command and I don't have to do anything.

I put the pan with chicken and another pan with vegetables to saute them. I read the recipe and drizzle a generous amount of seasoning, spiced rum and lit the pan with a torc-AHHHHH!

F I R E !

Flames blow on my face as the entire pan catches on fire, and so does my heart. Spiced rum slips from my hand, breaking into hundred pieces and I screech like a scared cat.

"Oh my god! Off-ff Off-fire!" I stutter and try to remember the magical words to shut down the burners. But the flames continue to grow stronger and the burnt chicken looks at me frightening.

"Help." I whisper as I watch the chaotic dance of fire and smoke playing in front of my eyes. In an instance, the siren of the house blows up and my heart sinks down to my sick stomach. I am so dead!

"What the hell did yo-OH FUCK!"

Suddenly, Dakota emerges on the spot like Superman. He bravely takes the flaming pan from the counter and throws into the running water of sink.

"What were you doing, trying to burn down my house?" He growls at me in absolute anger.

"I-I..was-cooking-chicken." I whisper like a scared, wet cat.

"Cooking? You charcoaled the chicken." He taunts me, running his own hand in water as if it burned him.

"And why the hell were you cooking chicken? I eat steak on Tuesdays. It's literally printed on the meal schedule." He shouts over the buzzing alarm.

"What?" I gasp in shock at his hypocrisy. "But you told me-" 

"Eve, turn off the blaze and on the chimney at its highest speed." He speaks with urgency and shuts down the siren.

Metal compartments above the counter opens up, which I thought were cabinets and suck up all the suffocating smoke in a fraction of seconds.

"Hello! Pablo, Estás libre-" Dakota walks away talking on his phone while I stand there in my pool of guilt and rum, hoping he won't sue me or spank me. I look down and see the broken glass pieces and bend down to pi-

"Let it be. And come here."

I look up. The brute is sitting on his long leather couch with agitation garnished on his greek god nose as he glares at me with his 'I-will-cook-you-in-my-oven' eyes.

"Crawling or on my fee-"

"Just come here." He growls exhaustingly.

Panic beats in my chest as I walk on my feet with zero confidence. My fingers raise to my shirt as I ask him in my puppy voice, "Do you want me to strip?"

A muscle twitches in his face and he narrows his eyes darkly. "No. Sit." His voice dead serious.

Dakota pulls out his phone and hands me saying, "Order whatever you want." Oh!

I shyly select a large cheese burst peri-peri pizza with olives, mushroom, capsicum and corn as toppings.

"Eve, send Tim for cleaning." The brute orders in the air, and instantly, a robot which is the size of a flower pot comes on the crime scene.

I watch the bot in facination as it spots all the glass pieces with his blue laser light and picks up every piece one by one, then mops the floor with its bottom, cleaning it as good as a new mirror.

I control my freaky ass to break another bottle, just to watch him clean again.

I love this mini bot. I am going to stealing it. I mentally write Tim's name in my bucket list for things to do on the seventh day.

The back door opens and the old man from morning walks in looking astonished as fuck. He quietly picks up the sharp pieces of glass and mop the floor as new.

My peri-peri pizza arrives within fifteen minutes, along with Dakota's foot long chicken sub. We eat in silence as the old man washes the burnt utensil and cleans the countertop with a questionable face.

"Itz nowt cleaning." The man speaks in a broken accent.

What?

Dakota stands up in a heartbeat. His feet urgently take him to the place of ruin and he stares down hard on his counter top that has a nasty burnt mark.

Shit! I blazed his blaze.

A muscle twitches on his clenched jaw as he turns his head at the innocent artist, furiously. I instantly look away from both the men and focus on my pizza.

Maybe this is the last slice of my life. So lemme enjoy it.

Some foreign dialects get exchanged while I devour the pizza at a slow-pain-staking speed and try to decode the Spanish drama with no subtitles.

"Thank you, Pablo." Dakota hands him some green cash.

At this rate, the old man will prolly become rich if he continues to call him and pay him extra for his original job.

Pablo gives a curt nod like a butler, then quietly exists through the back door. My heart sinks down to my stomach as I realize we are alone again and it's dark outside.

And I feel scared, like a sheep whose eyesight lowers down with the sun.

Dakota with his wolfish face walks back to the couch. His green eyes darken with spite as they glare at me with so much hatred, as if I burned his balls rather than his kitchen.

I try not to flinch as he sits beside me with anger rumbling through him like dark clouds. The brave princess in me goes into hiding as she sees the big bad wolf.

"Dance."

My eyes widen as his voice crackles on me like thunder. "What?" I blink at him, not believing my dreamy ears.

"I said.. Dance."

Dominance pools out of him like lethal warning, as if he will have my head on his shining chandelier if I rebelled against him.

I gulp, feeling like a newborn hamster, not sure if I should run away or do a handstand. My hands sweaty with sweat and anxiety as I slowly stand up under his stone cutting gaze.

"Eve, play music." Dakota orders, while keeping me locked with his green toxic eyes.

"What kind of music would you like to listen?" The computer bot's voice asks in return.

"Soft jazz."

Instantly, bright lights from the ceiling soothe to warm tone, changing the atmosphere of the house as music floods in from all the corners.

Like an animal after dark, he waits for me to move, react, act as he continues to gawk me without blinking.

Not gonna lie, I am a little scared here.

As every second pass, he continues to look mad like he is controlling a vicious beast behind those barbaric eyes, which are just observing me. Silently.

And on top of that, no one else is here, other than him and I. I kinda doubt if the walls and glasses are sound proof too.

"Emara. Dance." He says like a last warning.

I raise my hand and move my hips to the soft tone of saxophone. The stiffness in my bones evaporates as the music takes over me and my body moves to its enticing rhythm.

Dakota shifts on the couch, sliding a little and spreading his thighs in an arrogant male gesture, while keeping that predatory gleam on me.

I close my eyes, not able to stare into those intense, green toxins and let the music conquer my senses. My hips move, my neck circles, my hands rub on me and-

*Click*

My eyes flick open as I hear an unknown sound behind me. I turn around and find Dakota beside the counter, pulling a bottle of wine from the top shelf.

"Continue." He tells me as he pours the cherry red liquid into a glass and gets back to his previous position. On the couch with his thighs spread wide.

He raises the glass to his sinful lips and takes a small sip as his animalistic eyes watch me silently. My heartbeat fastens and heat spreads through my skin like poison.

My hips move in a slow, infinite circle and something warms in my lower belly as he licks his lips.

Dakota's eyes darken as they slide to my breast and they rise and fall rapidly under his gaze. A small smirk curve the corner of his lips as he takes another sip from his glass, watching the tiny peak of my nipples.

Blood runs hotter through my veins, causing my breast to sweat, thighs to quiver, and my muscles to clench from inside.

Suddenly warm lights turn into red, painting the entire room in its seductive redness. My body freezes as the music automatically changes to sensual beats, as if recognizing the mood of two humans in the room.

"Dance." He whispers darkly.

( ͡❛ ͜ʖ ͡❛)

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