The unnerving silence intensified, growing thick enough to prick distress into the pores of my skin. I huffed, a manifestation of how desperate I felt at the moment. With hands on my hips, I narrowed my eyes, hoping it would persuade the stubborn mule of a husband into giving in to my demands. He didn't, so I narrowed my eyes some more. Then we sort of got into an impromptu staring contest--one that I was quickly losing, by the way.

"Give it," I growled.

Silence.

The hubby didn't even move an inch.

"I said, give it," I uttered with more emphasis, my hand outstretched and fingers splayed. It didn't help my cause, but Gio's brow moved upward very slightly.

Progress.

But it wasn't enough. The husband had also started to glare. His hands found his hips as he matched my stubbornness and stance with his own. Gio had always been a man of few words and the fact that he was using fewer words now irritated the fuck out of me. How could I even unleash my pre-lawyer self at him when he wasn't even engaging me in verbal arguments? And I got plenty at the moment.

I broke eye contact first and stared at the floor. Gio's Brunello Cuci-whatever Derby shoes caught Ms. Yin's attention and threatened to throw all my arguments out of a metaphorical window. The upward movement of my eyes--from his shoes to his pants, belt and button-down blacktop, complete with a black suit jacket, had Ms. Yin computing the total cost of Gio's OOTD, which was a lot. Several semesters' worth of law school tuition, in fact.

The way his OOTD enhanced his already masculine frame was not helping my cause. I coughed, my hand resting at the base of my throat. A huff escaped me again, directed more at myself than the hubby, willing myself to hold on to my righteous indignation.

Gio tilted his head to one side. My ogling had not gone unnoticed and his lips twitched upward in a self-satisfied grin. The kind that made me want to hide behind a curtain but peek at the same time. Whatever anger remaining in me was smothered and died a tragic death, slain by that stupid, deviously charming grin.

Clearly, a change of strategy was in order.

"Fine, keep it," I croaked, lowering my eyes and taking a deep breath. "It's not like that's important to me or anything. Those are just my memories anyway." My hands flicked for emphasis. I swiveled and shuffled towards the couch. I was dreadfully tired and my eyes were already sore from so much crying. That was what I was good at lately. I couldn't even retrieve a freaking paper from the hubby because any kind of physical exertion was restrained by my injuries.

A pity-party was likewise in order.

"I am just asking you to think about it for several days. Those memories were sealed for a reason. You've just undergone something very traumatic. Can't you postpone it for several more days?"

"Yeah. Whatever." I shrugged, then sat down on one of the couches in the living room. I got the remote and started surfing the channels, my mind not fully engaged in any of the programs flashing on the screen.

After I got the letter from Baron, I was so excited at the prospect of retrieving my memories that I ran and showed it to Gio without even fully glancing at it. It never occurred to me that he would confiscate the letter and refuse to give it back. I mean, he had a point. I had lived without my memories for several years already, what harm could another several days of waiting do? Truth be told, what was really grating on my nerves was the fact that if not for the Shens, I could have gotten my hands on that letter a couple of years back.

A sense of unease crept as I bitterly contemplated Baron's earlier threat of blackmail. I had not told Gio about it since our conversation in the car until now had only been about the letter. I raised my legs and hugged them to my chest, unsure of what to do. My eyes were glued oddly at the T.V. screen but my mind was all over the place.

The sudden appearance of a familiar face on the screen caught my attention. Even Gio was fully concentrated on the program being aired.

Quin, with her face full of make-up, was seated in the middle of a long table. Sitting beside her were two bespectacled men in business suits whose domineering presence screamed 'lawyer.' In front of them were several microphones from different news agencies. The marquee at the bottom indicated that the shot was a replay of an earlier live telecast.

"What can you say about the accusation that you're the Reaper?" a news reporter from a leading agency asked.

Quin snorted. "I don't know. Do I look like someone who can jump off buildings? I nearly tripped just walking towards this table." Quin's answer elicited laughter from the crowd.

"Any article claiming my client is the infamous Reaper is nothing but a baseless accusation devoid of any support," the lawyer seated at Quin's right side interjected. "Expect legal action from our side against any person or agency that falsely accuses our client of such falsehood," the lawyer continued.

"But do you have evidence to counter this allegation?" a representative from another news agency inquired.

"Legally speaking, it is not for our client to produce any of this so-called evidence to prove her innocence. After all, no proper charges have been filed against our client in any court and even if there is one, she enjoys the Constitutional right to be presumed innocent until proven otherwise. However, considering the gravity of the accusation, our client prefers to put matters to rest," the lawyer on Quin's right side stated without pausing. He then produced several papers and a screen was projected onto a blank wall.

"According to police reports, the Reaper had committed the following robbery on these dates during the past years. Our client was out of the country during some of these break-ins. The records of these could easily be vetted by our immigration officials. So you see, it's impossible for her to be the Reaper."

The room erupted with chatter and murmur, while cameras flashed continuously. Quin plastered on a bored face, occasionally checking her nails, although I knew she was anything but.

"But does she have a scythe-like mark?" another reporter asked.

"Mhmm, I do. It was during a drunken night. I did it on a dare." Quin stood, then lowered the neckline of her top to reveal a tattoo that was eerily similar to mine.

The chatter in the room grew louder.

"We believe it was because of this that the name of Ms. Ranya was dragged into the issue. We hope this press conference clarified this," the lawyer on Quin's right side spoke again.

"So, Ms. Rayna, are you saying that the rumor that you were being auctioned off when the police raided Mr. Hugo's place was a lie?"

Quin snorted. I narrowed my eyes at her since I was pretty sure I didn't snort like that. "Nonsense. I was at a club when said auction was happening. I even posted it on social media."

I turned a questioning glance at Gio. He shrugged. "I anticipated this."

Of course, he did.

The press conference concluded with another suave legal threat from the lawyers.

"Aren't you tired of cleaning my mess?" I touched my forehead to my knees and sighed heavily. I felt like the script of my life became the sudden victim of a cranky editor who decided to cut out all the good parts, douse gasoline on it, and set it on fire, but not before shredding it to pieces first.

I felt agitated that I had no command of the matters happening around me anymore. The only thing within my control at the moment is the T. V. remote, so I press the power button off. Take that.

Then I went back to sulking.

Gio sat beside me and wrapped his arms around shoulder. "God, I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm a mess! A failure!" I croaked, raising my hands for emphasis.

"You're a very gorgeous mess though." Gio pulled me in so I could rest my head on his chest.

"Mhmm. You have a point," I joked, though a tear involuntarily made its way down my cheeks. My hand quickly swept it away. Gio's arms tightened around me.

With another heavy breath, I straightened. "I should prepare for my exams. God forbid I fail even that."

I stood up to leave and felt Gio follow. He kept following me until I reached the door to my bedroom. "Ugh. Why are you following me?"

"They told me to follow my dreams, so I did."

A very unlady-like snort was produced by yours truly. To be fair, the line was entirely unexpected.

Gio cocked his head to one side and grinned, pleased with himself.

"I wish I was a camera, so I can capture that smile of yours and preserve it forever," he continued with his lame jokes.

"Oh my God! Who are you and what did you do to Gio?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him playfully. He took a step forward, reducing the space between us by half a foot. My back flattened itself against my bedroom door.

Suddenly, I became very aware of how empty Gio's mansion was at the moment.

"W-where did everyone go?"

"Somewhere."

I cleared my throat, my hand once again found the base of my neck restlessly. "So, we're... alone?"

"Hmm. It appears so," Gio drawled. He played with some errant strands of my hair, eventually letting them slide through his fingers. He had his half-smile, half-smirk on his face that managed to make me giddy for some reason.

Yeah, some reason, Ms. Yin scoffed. I shushed her.

For the love of everything golden, I was just now belatedly realizing the extent of my relationship with Gio. My no-boyfriend-since-birth self had treated it like a paper marriage that it was at first, I admit. But then again, that kiss happened. Now, yours truly was very confused. Was I a girlfriend? A wife? And if so...

I gulped.

Truth be told, Gio's proximity wasn't helping me process all this.

Don't worry about your wifely duties. I'll teach you. Gio's words from several weeks ago echoed in my head. I had to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep a blush at bay. I fought the urge to fan myself.

Gio raised my chin and held my gaze. Something in me somersaulted when I met his soulful eyes. So dark and intense yet warm.

"What are you thinking?" he whispered.

She wants the d--

I again shushed Ms. Yin inwardly, snapping my head to the side as I did so. Okay, so maybe I verbalized it because Gio chuckled.

"You're making it so hard for me to resist, Nyan."

Oh my fucking god, I'm doomed.

I glared at Gio. "Why? What are you thinking about?"

He cocked his brow, "Do you really want to know?"

I gulped again.

No.

Kinda.

Sensing my hesitation, he again lifted my chin. "Don't you think it's long overdue?" His fingers gently stroked the underside of my chin. I felt tingly all over.

"Uhm... "

He leaned in to me, his lips very close to my ear. "I'll be extra gentle," he whispered. Oh my fucking god.

"O-okay?" 

Suddenly, I was swept off my feet and lifted, the action catching me by surprise that a girlish squeak escaped my lips. Gio opened and pushed the bedroom door the second after. He gently laid me on the bed.

His lips found mine in a feverish rush of need, his hand cupping the back of my neck and not allowing me much movement. I returned his kiss with the same fervor, allowing myself a moment to be honest, at least.

He deepened the kiss and I got lost in the sensation. My hand, which seemed to have a mind of its own, found its way around Gio's neck pulling him even closer as his slipped around my waist...and under my clothes.

After a few more moments of bliss, Gio broke the kiss. "I must stop."

"Why?" I asked, breathless.

His hand touched a bandaged wound. "You're injured. Your stitches will come undone."

Oh yeah...almost forgot those.

Gio kissed my forehead and smiled. "You owe me," he said as he booped my nose with his finger. He then stood up and left the room.

I clutched Granny Cerce's letter in my hand, which I pilfered from Gio's pockets earlier.

Getting up from the bed, I committed the details of the letter to memory.

Rewriting notes:

Yooooooo....this was my previous year's valentine's special, so it was extra...fluffy. I hope you enjoyed it! XD 

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