(The Affection)

Mariana was sound asleep until she was awakened by the sound of a door opening. The room was flooded with the light of the morning sun streaming through the glass window. She saw Calum emerging from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and she almost gasped in surprise. He had a powerful aura that could make any woman's heart skip a beat. He ran his fingers through his wet, black hair, and the sheer heat of that simple gesture made her jaw drop and paralyzed her body. His dragon tattoo, visible on his waist, was a captivating sight. She wished she could touch those rock-hard abs, and the thought alone was enough to make her hope she could be that towel wrapped around him.

She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. She felt like a maniac, a psychopath trying to spy on a victim. She could see the wound on his right shoulder, where she had shot him, and it was healing nicely.

"God, he looks so hot," she whispered to herself, her cheeks burning with shame.

She wanted to slap herself and bang her head against the wall to convince herself she wasn't admiring his body. She was ashamed of her flirtatious thoughts.

Her eyes were half-closed, pretending to be asleep, as she watched him open the closet and pull out some clothes.

He bent down, reaching for his waist, and pulled on his Calvin Klein briefs and boxer shorts. Then, he removed the towel.

Mariana wanted to open her eyes wide to take in the full view of his body. Her soul wanted to scream with joy as the sight of him sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

She remained curled up, unable to move. Her hands and feet felt numb, as if her blood couldn't circulate properly.

Her mind screamed at her to stay still, but her body had a mind of its own.

She shifted, letting out a small yawn, stretching her arms as if she was simply moving in her sleep.

He turned his head, catching her movement, but he ignored her, grabbing his red t-shirt and black leather jacket from the closet. He strode out the door, slamming it shut. He didn't care if she was awake or not.

Mariana breathed a sigh of relief. It was early morning, but sweat beaded on her forehead as if she had just finished a workout.

She sat up in bed, feeling her weakened body still reeling from the scene she had just witnessed.

"Oh, God!" she whispered, her voice laced with exasperation. She was so aggravated by how much she admired him.

She walked into the bathroom, trying to convince herself that what she was feeling was just a normal, physical attraction that everyone experiences.

"That's right, no need to worry. You shouldn't be affected by that madman. He's not your type," she said firmly, trying to sound confident.

She removed his t-shirt, and her gaze fell to her stomach, where she was still wearing his boxer shorts. She couldn't believe how close she was to him, how crazy she was for wearing what he wore.

Totally, madly, badly, just... gross.

She was questioning God right now, wondering why he was doing this to her, why she had to be so disconcerted, exasperated, and humiliated by herself.

After showering, Mariana got ready. She put on the white dress, which looked like an evening gown, that she had washed yesterday.

She reused her bra, figuring it was better to wear it twice or thrice than to wear nothing at all.

And, she pushed aside her discomfort and kept on one of his boxer shorts.

Her best attempt at shamefacedness was impressive.

She smelled like a man, using men's shampoo and soap. Her vanilla, milky scent had faded, and she frowned. She smelled like a dude, and it was awful.

Just as she finished getting dressed, there was a knock on the door.

She opened it without hesitation, still holding the doorknob. She met his wonderful, serious eyes.

She held the silver doorknob tightly, as if being pulled in by his gaze.

"He's waiting. You come out now," he said.

She smiled timidly in reply. She stepped out of the room after he moved aside, resting his left shoulder against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

Calum watched her walk, as if she didn't know how. Mariana's feet seemed to have forgotten how to walk, knowing he was watching her every move.

He followed her, and they headed to the living room, where someone was lounging peacefully on the couch.

The strange man's eyes met Mariana's. Her heart pounded with a chilling feeling. His gaze was terrifying, and it intensified when he gave her a sinister smile. He looked like Doflamingo from the famous manga series "One Piece." He was dressed all in black, and except for his face, his entire body was covered in tattoos, ugly tattoos, in Mariana's opinion. He was about Calum's age, and his blonde hair was styled in a semi-skinhead cut. His face was pale, and his eyes were deep and dark.

"Here she is, Jaguar," Calum said, reaching for his phone in his jeans pocket. It rang loudly.

"Trae, yeah," he said, walking away and heading to the kitchen. He was talking to someone on the phone. Mariana wanted to follow him, but she was too scared to move, as the frightening sight of the man didn't move away from her.

"What's your name, lovely?" the man asked, standing up and taking a few steps towards her.

She followed his movement with her eyes, her heart pounding faster as he stopped in front of her, too close.

"Ahhm, I'm... Mariana," she stammered, moving backward. He moved closer again, and her back hit the wall.

She saw him getting closer, and she began to feel terrified. But what made her scream was when she felt his hand touch her thigh.

The man covered her mouth before she could scream. His hand was heavy and tight, pressing against her mouth, and she could feel her jaw aching.

He moved his body closer to hers. Mariana cried out in fright, using all her strength to push him away, but she couldn't.

She cried uncontrollably, her tears soaking her face. She closed her eyes, punching the man's shoulder, trying to break free, but he pressed his mouth against her neck, ripping the lace on the left shoulder of her dress and bra, exposing her breast.

She cried out. Her knees and feet were as cold as ice as she growled in hatred and sadness.

"Get off her," Calum said, pointing his gun at the man. He stood a few meters away, his teeth gritted.

The man heard him and immediately obeyed. He removed his hand from her mouth, his other hand from her thigh, and stepped back, facing Calum, his eyes wild.

"Bro, I knew you were already tired of her. Come on, let me taste her too," the man said, a smile plastered on his face.

"Hand me your gun," Calum said, his voice cold.

The man handed him the gun, his eyes fixed on Calum's enraged expression.

"Her neck tasted like caramel, by the way," the man said, his grin widening as if he were sharing a magnificent life experience.

Mariana opened her mouth, feeling the pain, but she didn't move, her back pressed against the wall.

The sound of her crying, her body rigid with fear, sent a surge of anger through Calum.

He shot the man's left foot, and he crumpled to the floor.

Mariana ran towards Calum, and he stopped pulling the trigger, feeling her body collapse against his.

She hugged him tightly, her wet face pressed against his chest. Her trembling hands gripped his waist, and he felt her heart beating wildly, her fear palpable.

"Please, don't do that, Calum," she whispered.

He wanted to kill him. He didn't know why, but he lowered his gun.

The man scrambled out of the house, despite his injured foot, and drove his car away.

Calum let her cry against his chest, and finally, he touched her back, hugging her back.

Her desperate sobs slowly subsided as she felt his hand on her back. And in that moment, something sank into her mind. She knew he was a good man, even if he didn't want her to know it.

She pulled away from the hug, and they looked at each other.

Her sad eyes met his steely, intense gaze, as her bitter tears continued to fall.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He remained silent, just looking at her, asking himself why he was doing these strange things. He didn't understand why he had let that bastard go. He couldn't believe he had been manipulated by her. He didn't know why he was so soft with her. That wasn't him. He was a violent, hard-hearted man. He didn't know how to be compassionate. He lived because he killed, and he couldn't accept the fact that this woman standing in front of him had turned him into a completely different, crazy person.

"I'm sorry about hugging you," she said.

Her words warmed his heart. He couldn't even force himself to not save her every time she was in danger.

"Shit," he muttered to himself.

That was the only word that came to mind. He couldn't think of anything good to say.

Seeing her cry like that, feeling her emotions, made him go damn nuts.

He couldn't help but glance down at her exposed breast, her dress ripped in that area.

His heart ached with a pain he couldn't explain. Any other man seeing that glorious part of her would think something else, but all he wanted to do right now was to cover it up and wipe her tears away.

"Damnit. What is this happening to me? I don't need this shit in my life," he whispered to himself.

He lifted his head, looking at the white ceiling. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"Alright. You fix yourself in the room. And... dry off your tears," he said, his serious gaze finding hers.

Mariana wiped her tears with her hands, and he watched her.

Her messy hair was wet from her tears, and that made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else to say. It was the only word she knew she truly meant. She wanted to hug him again, but her mind said no. Her heartbeat had calmed, enough for him to know she was okay now.

Calum's gaze followed her as she walked away from him.

His eyes were blank, but his heart was full, full of affection and desire for her, and he didn't even know what it was. It didn't exist in him. He knew he had never felt anything like it.

"Fuck, I hate this shit," he muttered, throwing his gun on the other couch and sitting down, closing his eyes in irritation and frustration.

"I hate this shit!"

***