POV Svyatoslav
Stefan's day off
Stefan hid in the portal, and the glow didn't go away. I took a step forward, making sure everything was okay, but somehow I was carried away. I'm on the floor, my coccyx hurts, someone nervous sneezes angrily from behind, and the portal is gone.
- I won't let go! Nowhere! You are mine! - the best man in the two worlds growled.
- Easy, Hank, I'm not going anywhere. Just seeing Stefan off.
I got comfortable on his chest and yawned sweetly. Stepha did, and now you can sleep.
- Where did you take him?
- Where he wanted to go. Look, it's so early, let's play a Q&A game later. Better put me to bed with a blanket cover and I'll even let you kiss me before bedtime.
Hank looked me in the face, put his hand on my forehead, and frowned even more.
- You have a fever. When did you get sick?
- That's right, cap. I'm not sick, I don't know what's wrong with me. But Stefan said I was in heat soon, so maybe that's why you think?
He stared at me long enough to smile. No, well, look at him, I'm sick here, and he's smiling.
- Your smell got stronger.
- Yes, yes, you are my raspberry. You don't need to go to work?
- I do," Hank stuck his hand under my pajamas and squeezed a sensitive nipple. I was electrocuted.
- I have a headache and a fever.
- You're gonna get so old," licked my ear, and I was shivering. But as much as I enjoyed it, my head was still cracking and my stomach was aching.
- Okay, whatever happened to that head, you wouldn't her. Come here, pretty boy.
I felt like I woke up about two hours later. Hank wasn't home. I left for work already, workaholic.
I'm crawling off his bed and slapping him down to see if he took his lunch.
- I'm giving him a blowjob with his sick head, and he doesn't bother to just take his container of food. Isn't he an asshole?
So, I guess I'm better, can I come to him? I'll see where he works. And I'll get it in my forehead too.
I don't have my clothes, but Stef has a whole separate room here, made under a huge closet. I got myself cleaned up, so I ran to Hank.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Reid! You look very good today! - A beautiful young girl sitting in the hall smiled brightly.
Reid? Oh, yes, Reid, Stefan. Should I introduce myself? No, I won't. Let him think I'm Stefan, or else he won't let me see Hank.
- Hi! - I'm waving kindly, - Is Hank here?
- Yes, Mr. Emsville is in his office. He's a little busy right now, but I think you can come in. Shall I escort you out?
- No, you shouldn't. I will find it myself.
I only need my nose to find Hank. The smell will lead me to it myself. I'm sure I'm walking down the hall guessing where he's sitting.
He may have a really important meeting, so I slowly open the door, first having decided to check.
There was a large glass table in the center of the office, filled with a bunch of papers. Hank, hunched down, read and wrote with passion, without paying attention to anything. But I wasn't the first to see him, but some boy sitting on the edge of the table, holding a tray of food and slamming Hank's eyes cutely. A storm of anger inside me was spreading into a real typhoon.
- Mick, I'm busy, so leave the tray and go.
- But, Mr. Emsville, you need to eat. If your husband can't take care of you, let me at least feed you. You like my casserole, today I made it with cabbage and mushrooms.
- Okay, come here and go.
My eye twitched. I don't care, I don't feed.
I wasn't going to fly in like an angry fury. So I quietly walked in, pulled out a container of his lunch and removed the lid.
- Good afternoon," he exclaimed cheerfully, drawing the attention of both.
Hank, who was reaching for the casserole, turned to me with surprise. The cutie with the tray got up and all the red spots were covered.
- Oh, Stefan, hello. I didn't expect to see you here.
- To you, Mr. Reid, you're a respected man!
I've never been the first to attack anyone in my life, but this world is a bad place for me. I swung the container in his face and threw it at him. My vegetable pasta hit him in the face, crawled down his crystal-clear shirt, and slammed on his shiny suede white shoes.
And it got so good, so good. To me. But not them.
Already at home, in the evening, I locked myself in my room, closing the windows (suddenly, everything happens through them) and the door. The door was also supported by a chair. Today Hank doesn't intend to see it. I ordered him three kinds of casseroles from different restaurants and left them in the kitchen. It won't eat - not my problems. I made pizzas and sandwiches for myself in advance, so I wouldn't have to leave the room and run into Hank.