Seven

[Sweet tea in the summer, cross your heart won't tell no other] 

"Your shirt is under the bed." He stated once his eyes met with hers. She covered her chest with her hands immediately.

 His voice had sounded deeper and lower than usual.

 With her hands covering her chest, she went to the other side of the bed and bent over. He watched her the whole time like a predator who just spotted his first meal after going hungry for days.

 She reached out for the shirt and noticed that it felt foreign. It was too soft and it looked like the types of shirts that he wore. 

 She took the shirt and raised it to the dim light of the moon and  realised that it was indeed his shirt. She quickly looked under the bed, hoping that maybe her shirt was somewhere down there. It was empty.

 Hunter was stretched out in his chair, staring at her like she was his next snack.

  "Where is 'my' shirt?" Yima demanded while she was still on her knees with his shirt covering her chest, protecting herself from his wandering eyes.

 "It was no longer fit to consider it a shirt by the time Zelda was done with you. And don't forget that you still have to spend a few days in the cells and you'll need a proper shirt, the men down there are animals." 

 Yima didn't want to think about the punishment, not now. She took in a few breaths before responding.

 "Why didn't you get one from my room?" She asked, irritated.

 "There was no need for that," he gestured around. "since there are many shirts right here." 

 Yima glared at him.

 The only boy whose shirt she had ever worn was Niklaus. But that situation was entirely different. 

 "I can't put on your shirt." The thought was simply absurd. What would people think?

 "It's not mine," She raised her eyebrow at him, "not anymore." He finished.

 To be honest, It was getting pretty cold and she didn't want to spend another minute here with him. Besides, he would rather choose death than agree to get a shirt for her.

 "Can you atleast turn around?" She tells him.  The only movement he made was crossing his hands. With a sigh she turned around and put on his shirt.

 She tried her best to make his shirt fit her perfectly by trying to tie it and tuck it in. Seeing that her efforts were fruitless, she finally gave up.

 She could feel him looking at her the whole time, but nothing could possibly prepare her for the intensity of his piercing eyes as her eyes met his. They held a raw emotion, was it hatred? She couldn't tell.

 "What?" She sharply said. He didn't answer, he just stared, but this time not at my eyes, but at her body. 

 "I don't like you, but I need you to help me get revenge on Lilith. I can get rid of that line on your nape  if you do what I ask." He said changing the mood to serious.