Freya plopped on the couch, remaining unperturbed by the familiarity of her action. She sighed, luggage forgotten at the side. Her head felt heavy and her mind groggy. She soon fell asleep, unaware of her surroundings.
Soon, the sun bid farewell to the mortals paving the way for its silvery lover to take over. The initially illuminated room was shrouded in darkness. The girl slept soundly, oblivious to the two people making their way into the apartment.
Their bodies were tangled in a passionate kiss, as the man keyed in the passcode. The door opened, and their bodies tumbled into the space, intoxicated by each other.
The man's tall frame seems to be experienced as he closed the door behind them without separating from his partner.
One could easily deduce from the familiarity with which he navigated the space that it wasn't his first time here. It could be said that he even lived here.
He found a closed door and badged through it, expertly moving his partner towards the bed. The only source of light came from the moon, which was covered by thick clouds, obscuring its brightness. Without caring much for the darkness, he stripped down and went for the kill.
The night was long for the poor woman at his mercy. This wasn't to say she wasn't enjoying the lack of control she was subjected to under his expert touch. Perhaps to her, his actions would be described as passionate. As for him, it was nothing more than a way of relieving his manly desires.
Was she truly oblivious to his thoughts? Not at all. However, it wouldn't hurt to imagine that the godly man bedding her tonight was hers tonight. With that thought going straight to her head, she was high on adrenaline. Like a fiend, she gasped, moaned, whimpered, and chanted his name like a prayer.
Her cries of pain and pleasure echoed within the soundproof space. His touch was anything but gentle ,and so were his movements. Juan only stopped when the first light of the day slipped through the glass window.
He plopped down beside his partner, too lazy to change rooms. The jetlag from the day and exhaustion from his previous indulgences drained him enough to put him to sleep. For the first time, he slept on the same bed as one of his women.
Within the same apartment, the sleeping frame of a frail-looking figure began to stir from her deep slumber. She struggled to open her eyes, which felt too heavy to peel apart.
A few stray tears fell, soaking the couch beneath her frame. She wasn't fully conscious despite the pain that was making it hard to sleep. Pain-filled whimpers escaped her lips from time to time.
Her throat felt dry as though she was forced to swallow sawdust each time she attempted to get rid of the perched feeling. She moaned again, silently praying for the torment to end.
A few hours later, Juan woke from the pang of hunger that assaulted his body. He groaned, groggily making his way out of the room. The man sleepily wore his boxer before making his way out of the room, his eyes barely open.
Due to the darkness and his mild drowsiness from insufficient sleep, he failed to notice the suitcase that lay around carelessly on his way. He tripped over them, losing his footing. His body came tumbling down, curses slipping through his lips.
Any trace of sleep he might have had was washed away, a frown etching over his features. He looked around, brows furrowed, trying to figure out the cause of his fall. He stood up carefully to avoid another accident.
Soon, the room was flooded in light, brightening up the entire house.
His nose scrunched up in displeasure, mind working fast. Despite the effort, he couldn't understand why there were suitcases lying around in his apartment. He couldn't help but doubt his awareness.
'Did I perhaps badge into someone else's home? ' he wondered. Before he could come up with a conclusive answer, his ears picked up a soft moan.
Juan's initially confused gaze took a predatory turn. His ears were trained to pick up the slightest sound within miles. His feet made their way towards the large couch in the center of the room.
The closer he got, the more defensive his body became, ready to defend himself against any attack. What he didn't expect to find was a whimpering angel lying on his favorite seat.
He stood rooted to the ground, his mouth wide open in awe. The frail woman lying on the couch was unlike any he had met before. Her beauty, coupled with the vulnerable expression of pain displayed on her features, proved lethal to his heart.
He felt his heart jerk hard against his ribcage, trying to pump blood normally. His pulse quickened momentarily, yet the blasphemous reaction he didn't expect was for his member to wake. Her whimpers were like the calls of a siren in distress, gradually pulling him into the lure of its sweetness.
He nervously moved closer, shaking his head in an attempt to regain his momentum. He looked around, ensuring that there was no one else in his space. Juan pushed all his doubts and questions to the back as the doctor in him took the front seat.
He crouched beside the girl, carefully resting the back of his hand on her forehead. He hissed from the heat that threatened to burn his skin. The sweat on the lady's forehead didn't help the situation either.
When he tried to move her head, she whined uncomfortably, trying to resist any movement. He stopped, murmuring the gentlest sorry he had ever spoken in his entire life.
The tears leaving her closed lids made his soul ache for reasons he couldn't fathom. Feeling her agitation, he reluctantly removed his hand, aware of the sensitivity she may be feeling.
He felt the need to reassure her before he could take any action, afraid that she might feel threatened by a stranger's touch.
"Sssh, Angel. It's okay. I am a doctor. I just want to help. I promise I won't do anything that would cause you any pain. I just need you to help me make a deduction. Since you feel uncomfortable moving your head, you can try moving your fingers. Can you do that for me?"
Freya knew that it would be difficult to move any inch of her body. However, if the man beside her was truly a doctor, she needed to try. She tried to move her fingers despite the pain that shot right to her head soon after. Her whimpers returned, and her hands balled up into a fist again.
Juan couldn't torment her anymore. Although he didn't quite understand the type of migraine she was suffering from, he had to do something to aid her situation. "It's okay, love. You don't have to move again. I will take care of you. Give me a few minutes to look for my kit. I will be back soon. "
He coaxed her gently, feeling tempted to kiss her pain away. Upon realizing the dangers behind his thoughts, he stood up abruptly, as though burned.
He staggered back, trying to escape in the name of finding his kit. His living room was connected to the kitchen, where he knew the kit was.
Juan went directly to the sink and opened the tap. He placed his hand under the flowing cold water before washing his face. He needed to stay focused for both their sake. He retrieved his kit and walked back inside, almost afraid of his own thoughts.
Despite the sudden fear and urge to protect himself, the soft, wet lashes, hiding her eyes away, beckoned to him. The pearls of sweat accumulating on her forehead, as well as her drenched hair, pulled at his heartstrings. He was like a puppet whose every movement was at his puppeteer's whim.
He sighed deeply, preparing the diclofenac syringe before carefully injecting it into her body. He then added a second injection of sedative to enable her to get a good rest. She must be exhausted from the struggles she was going through internally.
Once everything was placed back in its original place, Juan found himself giving in to his desires. He went back to the girl and took her hand. His other hand rested on her face, smoothening the furrows away. The girl had fallen into a deep, peaceful slumber.
The doctor felt the urge to care for and protect her. It baffled him why he felt that way. He hardly knew the stranger whose face he was gazing at gently. He felt conflicted by the need to guard her, afraid that she might be just a fiction of his imagination.
He could have taken that root if the small hand in his larger one didn't feel as warm to the touch as it did.
He would easily question his sanity if the small face under his caress wasn't as compelling as it was. He didn't know how long he stayed in that position staring at her like a creep. He only, albeit reluctantly, let go when he felt the girl fall pliant under his touch.
It assured him of her state as well as woke him from the pit hole he didn't know he had fallen into. His tensed muscles relaxed, and his heart found its peace at the rhythm of her soft breath.
His gaze caressed her features, trying to commit them to memory. His hands itched to caress along every curve of her body, and he had the impulse to kiss her temple.
He didn't! Rather, he couldn't. Although he was famous for his womanizing ways, he was never one to take advantage of others. He sighed, stepping away from her, once again trying to find an answer to the questions he should have asked before.
As his gaze peeled off of her, his mind cleared up. The only other person who knew the password to his apartment was his darling sister. With that thought in mind, he went to the bedroom to wake his partner up. She had stayed far beyond what was agreed upon. After kicking her out of his place, he picked up his phone and made a call.
His sister's sleepy voice was soon alert as he described the angel in his home. An hour later, he sat on the couch opposite Freya, fully dressed and alert. His gaze never strayed away from her.