Smokey Charm

[Johan's POV]

"You should refrain from talking back to Ivan like that," Russell said as he dabbed a gel ice pack to Johan's cheek. Knelt on the floor in front of him, he tended to the bruise the slap caused. "You may not like his choices in life, but he's still your father. Don't talk shit. And start taking Eskrima practice more seriously. You could have blocked it by reflex, but you didn't because you're too used with all your dirty little tricks."

Sat at the edge of the bed, Johan bit the corner of his lip, only half-listening to Russell's unsolicited lecture. His rattled brain had zeroed in on the heat radiating from the hand resting on his thigh while the owner seemed unaware of the whirlwind of butterflies twisting inside his gut with the simple gesture.