Sweet and bitter

"Attack" "Attack" "Attack" "

As I ran through the streets of New York, five men, two wearing masks and three holding bombs, chased after me, chanting the word "Attack." Hot tears streamed from my eyes, and the white sundress I was wearing was soaked in my blood, almost making the fabric appear to be dyed red.

I tripped over a stone and lost my footing, landing with a loud thud on the ground. I looked helplessly back to those men standing a foot away, unable to get back on my feet in time. I closed my eyes as one of them pulled out their pistol and prepared to shoot me. I couldn't feel anything despite hearing the sound of a gunshot. There is no discomfort.

My eyes opened to see a woman dead on the ground in front of me, blood trickling down from the wound in her chest caused by the bullet. I sobbed loudly while clutching the motionless figure in my trembling hands. Grecia was the one who took the bullet for me.

I bolted upright in bed with a loud scream, panting heavily, and cold sweat trickled down my temples. I looked around with frightened eyes and sighed in relief when I realized it was all a nightmare. Since the incident, I've been having this problem on a regular basis. I sniffled and wiped my tears away with my sleeves. I looked at the clock and saw that it was half-past eleven o'clock. My heart was racing as I heard a loud knock on the door. But as soon as I heard his voice, I relaxed.

"Lia?" I remained silent, staring at the door, hoping he would leave me alone. But he persisted and kept knocking.

"Are you okay?" He inquired from behind the closed door. "I heard you screaming and something breaking," He said, and I frowned. Something breaking?

I peered over the side of my bed, and there were glass shards all over the floor. When I take sleeping pills at night, I usually keep glass and a bottle of water near my nightstand. I haven't gotten enough sleep in the last six days, so I started taking a pill to get at least some sleep so that my body can keep working. It had almost become a habit by this point. I suppose I pushed it aside when I awoke from my dream.

"Open the door," I ignored him and beginning to clean away the shards of glass. There was silence on the other end, and I almost thought he had left.

I sighed as I heard him say, "Lia, please." I know he's pleading with me not only to open the door but also to understand him.

"I'm fine, Logan," I replied to his first question.

"Can you open the door?" he inquired, twisting the doorknob. I know he can open the door if he wants to because I discovered he has extra keys for the door, but I also know he wouldn't dare to try.

"I'm exhausted, Logan. "Good night," I said softly as I tossed the trash into the bin. After washing my hands, I crawled under the covers of my bed. Logan, I believe, had already left because there was silence on the other side of the door.

I stared at the ceiling, reflecting on everything that had happened in the six days since I returned home from the hospital, as well as the day Natasha left the house. It didn't feel the same after she left, as I had anticipated. I thought Logan and I were getting along better, but now I feel like we're drifting apart even more. The distance between us grew wider by the day. We don't talk much, or rather, I make sure that doesn't happen. If he isn't willing to open up to me, I'm not going to waste my time with him.

It all started three days ago when I asked him why he hadn't reported my kidnapping or the blast to the police. It sparked a fight between us.

"I told you I had taken care of the situation, Lia. Why do you want to file a police report?" Logan became irritated and yelled at me. He was sitting on the couch, and I was standing in front of him.

"Because they're the cops," I retorted angrily. "They will look into the situation further and determine why they did it."

"There's NOTHING left to investigate," he growls at me. "I told you not to worry about it, so why do you keep poking your nose into it?"

In disbelief, I looked at him. "For God's sake, Logan, they kidnapped me. This time, I'd like to know why. I appreciate that you saved my life, but why didn't you call the cops? You knew it was going to be serious, didn't you?" I fired back.

"I didn't want to call the police because it would negatively affect my reputation. I didn't want it to turn into a case. That is all there is to it."

"Yet again, you're lying. Logan, I'm not stupid. The guy recognized you and used me to get to you. You didn't call the cops because you know they'll find out about what you've done as well. I know you're keeping something from me. Just spit it out." I was losing my patience and yelled at him.

"I didn't do anything. It was something we had in the past, and I ended it through you. That's all there is to it. I admit it was my fault that I got you involved in this nonsense, but I assure you that it will not happen again.

"But-" I opened my mount to question him again, but he cut me off with something that worsened the situation tenfold.

"Please don't make me feel bad for saving you, Lia." I don't think he realized what he said when he said it, but he looked guilty as soon as he saw my face. What hurt the most was that he didn't correct himself or say anything. He simply remained silent.

"There will be no further discussion on this. "That's it," he said clearly, rising from his seat and exiting the room.

I haven't spoken to Logan since that day, and I've been ignoring him for the past three days. I thought there was someone in this world who would save and help me if I got into trouble when I saw Logan at the warehouse when he came to rescue me. It gave me a sense of security. That there are people in this world who care about me and are willing to go to great lengths to save me. And I felt a sense of belonging when he kissed me at the hospital. It awoke in me a feeling I never expected to have after my parents' deaths. But everything was shattered that day when he admitted he regretted saving me. I felt completely alone once more.

I still regret not questioning Sheriff Wilson about why my parents were murdered. I fled my home country at the Sheriff's request. At the time, I just wanted to forget everything, so I didn't bother asking about the person who killed my parents or why he killed them. But since I've moved here, I've been waking up every day and night with this question. All those sleepless nights like today, regretting not knowing the answers.

I didn't want to make the same mistake again. My mind was clouded with a lot of questions, and being left unanswered is very upsetting to me. Every time I look in the mirror, the stitches on my temple aggravate the situation.

It hurts to know he doesn't trust me enough to tell me about his relationships with those men, even after our first kiss, which heightened my feelings for him. I may appear hypocritical in demanding to know about his past when I haven't revealed anything about mine. But my curiosity won't let me go.

******

I stare aimlessly into the thin air as I get lost in thought. I was sitting in the backyard of the house for the first time. It's almost a month since I moved here, and I still haven't explored all of the house. As the wind grew stronger, the grey and gloomy atmosphere matched my inner feelings, and I hugged myself tightly.

I sat there and watched as small dark circles appeared on the paved ground in front of me. The circles grew larger and more numerous, and I soon realized it was raining. I looked up at the sky, cursing myself for not noticing it sooner. The forecast called for clear weather. Maybe the weather forecaster wasn't in the right frame of mind when he announced the weather for today. It would have been preferable if there had been a warning. At the very least, a thunderclap. I was sitting under one of the canopies, a little further away from the pool area. The door to the house was a little further away, and even if I had to run, I knew I'd get soaked. I realized that the longer I stood there thinking, the more intense the rain became. The rain pelted down mercilessly on me as I dashed to the glass door and rushed inside. When I noticed my soaked clothes leaving a trail of water behind me, I grumbled under my breath. Now I'm supposed to clean the floor as well!

"Lia," I looked up to see Logan approaching me with a scowl on his lips. He was dressed in a tight black t-shirt, brown khaki pants, and white sneakers, which made me swoon a little at how hot he looked, but I kept my face blank when my gaze met his.

"What were you doing out there?" he inquired.

I mumbled, "Just- nothing." When he saw my trembling figure, his eyes softened, but his scowl deepened when he looked at my face.

"The bandage is wet," he sighed, and I flushed as I realized I had forgotten about it. From the massive bandage on my head last week, a smaller bandage now adhered to my temple. In frustration, I briefly touched the wet gauze and closed my eyes. For the second time today, I must redress. I'm now wishing I hadn't taken a shower earlier.

"Oh," I mumbled.

"Come sit here, I'll assist you." Logan motioned for me to sit down. I declined with a shake of my head.

No, I can handle it," I replied coldly. I'm still enraged at him. He clenched his teeth and stared at me.

"Karolia," he said sternly, and I pursed my lips. When I turned to leave the room, I was startled to feel hands on my waist, causing my heart to skip a beat. Logan picked me up and carried me to the dining room, which was close to the back garden. He slammed me down on the dining table and glared at me.

"Don't dare move from here," he said firmly, and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms across my chest. As if I'm going to listen.

"I'm not kidding, Lia. If you move an inch, I won't hesitate to strip you naked." I gasp at his foul language and stare at him. His words seemed to appear out of nowhere! I slapped his chest angrily as he added, "You know, I can do it."

"You're such an asshole!" I screamed, and all he gave me was a lopsided grin. "So, if you don't want that to happen, be a good girl and listen to me," he said, leaving me speechless once more. I huffed in frustration but remained motionless. If I disobey him, he will find a way to do it. Why take the chance?

"Bastard," I muttered. He soon appeared, holding a body towel in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. I continued to give him my deathly glare, but he remained unconcerned. I grabbed the towel from his grasp and wrapped it around myself. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

He pushed my legs apart so he could stand between my knees and work on my wound comfortably. Yes, when he asked me softly at first, I denied his request. He carefully removed the wet gauze before sterilizing the wound with an antiseptic cotton swab. He plastered a square gauze on top of another cotton and held it in place with adhesive tapes. I lost myself in the depth of his electric blue eyes the entire time. But he never returned my stare or indicated that he was bothered by it.

"Thank you," I said as he stuffed everything back into the kit, and he nodded, not looking at me. As the tension between us grew, I jumped down, clutching the towel tightly around my body, and jumped out of the room. But before I could walk away, he caught my wrist and stopped me.

He sighed and closed his eyes, his grip on my hand tightening. I give him a hopeful look.

"It all started when I found out more about my father." When I realized he was finally going to open up, my heart melted. I'm prepared to dispel all of my doubts.