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I could tell he wanted more.

From how his left hand came up from my back to run through my hair. 

From how his right hand came up to cup my cheek, keeping me in place as he deepened my amateur kiss.

I could tell he wanted more of this. Of me.

My hands, on a will of their own, were going up to snake around his neck, when he cut off the kiss. 

Either his hands came up to either my sides and against the wall behind me, as his muscles popped up, as though to support him. 

His forehead came down, against my right shoulder, rendering me off-balance a bit as I gasped.

A single pant escaped him, and I gasped again as the burning of his forehead heated up my shoulder.

Goodness, his fever!

"M-Mr. Ellington, you're sick!" I panicked softly, "I... Ugh... We..." My mind went blank, as I fidgeted in my place under his weight.

Some seconds passed, and neither of us spoke. The silence helped me arrange my thoughts accordingly, as I let out a calm breath.

Okay Char, you can do this! 

"Um, sir, do you want me to help you to the closet so you can change your soaked clothes?" I muttered suggestively.

He shifted slightly, and a throaty hoarse hum escaped his masculine throat. "You may." His tone came low yet still arrogant.

Seriously, Mister? Bossing me around even in your sick ass state?!

I shifted, hinting for him to lay on me a bit so I can help him start move. 

"Un secondo." He murmured, keeping his forehead over my shoulder. 

**Un secondo: one second**

I got what he requested despite my limited Italian diction, as I stopped moving. 

Some seconds passed, and from over my shoulder, I felt the alpha inhale a deep long breath, then exhale it. 

He straightened off of me like an iron rod, as he turned, and started moving towards the door in composed even steps.

I blinked in stun at him.

The hell is up with this man! Just how?!

If not for his clenched back muscles, one would even think nothing was up with him! 

He reached the closet, opening its door as he clenched his long hard fingers over the handle.

Realizing he needed some privacy to change, I grabbed a pair of change from my bag, and headed for the bathroom.

"I'll change in the bathroom. Y-You can have the room!" I announced softly, as he had already started undoing his belt. 

My lord! What an inconvenient time for the always careful, calculating R.E.C. to get a fever that fucks his concentration up!

I flushed as I shut the bathroom door behind me. 

Getting under the hot shower again, I showered fast just to warm my body. 

.

.

.

Ten minutes later, I stumbled outside the bathroom with a pair of soft pajamas, and wet hair.

Heat surged through my body, as I eyed his muscular, sculpted, and naked upper body highlighted in the dim light of the room.

He stood casually in his black jersey pants before the bar, and the tightness of the jersey pants only emphasized over how well-divided his body was. He looked like someone who trained every single muscle of the body.

Especially that bum. —My inner voice interjected.

I flushed, forcing my eyes away. 

He was pouring a glass of water for himself, as he took some anesthetic pills. 

Approaching him, my eyes took in his relatively messy hair, which was starting to dry up. It was the first time I see him this... different than his usual formal and styled look.

As his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed the pill, he reached for the bridge of his nose, rubbing it fiercely, as he turned towards the bed.

Climbing casually to the window side of the bed, he sunk under the blankets, like a kid tired from school.  

His left hand came up, and he laid his thick wrist over his forehead.

Shutting his eyes as he tightened his jaw, I could tell he was attempting to maintain a composure while the pills gave their effect. 

I got the chance to observe him better in his state. 

What a scene he was.

Those sculpted full muscles. His harsh features. His thick and dark hair locks, and this chiseled jaw. He had long lashes, which went perfectly with the beauteous features of his face, from a perfectly shaped nose to full seductive lips.

Lips. 

I approached him, keeping my observation.

His thick wrist over his forehead had his veins casually popping even though he clearly didn't seem to be clenching his muscles, and my eyes moved from his wrist, to his elbow, and his wide muscular bicep—

My gaze froze, and I frowned slightly.

Climbing up the bed like a puppy, my employer's eyes opened a bit, as he eyed me in caution, clearly not getting what I was going to do.

Unconsciously, my hand reached out. Towards the inner part of his bicep, shown by his raised up left hand.

And I touched that thing very softly, as I eyed it in surprise.

"Another tattoo?"

A slight, almost imperceptible shudder crossed his body upon the touch of my fingers, and yet he maintained a composed unfazed arrogant look. 

His ocean eyes fixed me in observation.

It was dark, and not so big, yet clearly visible. The fact that it was to the inner side of his bicep was what hid it, if anything, but not its size or dark inking. 

Eyeing its clear outline and the very detailed curving and dimensions, I slowly started registering what it was. 

"This..." I ran my fingers softly over its outline, "A sound wave tattoo?" I muttered, my voice hesitant. 

In very mini font, almost invisible, three numbers in roman were carved, and I assumed they were a date. Probably those referring to the date of the sound wave release itself. 

His eyes bore into me, and from the burning temperature of his skin beneath my fingers, I could tell he was at a state where his fever did not permit him from moving his body the way he wanted and as freely as he wanted. Especially that knowing him, he would have probably removed his hand long ago had it been a normal day and I was trying to... get to –God forbid– know him better.

He turned his gaze back to the ceiling, and then shut his eyes again, as he nodded, answering to my earlier inquiry.

I gulped.

But who... did it belong to...

To carve a certain sound... a voice... to carry around with you... to have it carved into your skin... On your left hand...

Who could have gained such an honor from you, Rickard Ellington Conway...?

I bit my lips, my heart sinking a little.

In my entire employ for him, I had only gotten to know one person who had had value at some point in his majesty's life enough to be carved on his skin...

A flash of Reina Wilbert's soft, peaceful smile came to my mind, and my heart ached.

Could it be...

It can only make sense... 

Even though he was close to Leonard and Sarah... I knew what the inking of someone's voice on a skin meant...

It was... engraving something priceless... beyond expression... and letting it flow through your skin.

And I could not get the thought of a confession from Reina Wilbert to be more... valuable to someone with very high walls like him.

"Who... does the voice belong to?" I spoke, my tone very low, and my voice slightly cracking at the very end.

What the hell?! Why did you ask, idiot?!! Do you really think he'd tell you? And if he did, do you want to hurt this much?!! Whg would you?! Wh—

"My mother."

I jumped slightly, gasping.

I had honestly not seen that coming. Not in a million years. Not in a parallel universe. Not in another country or under alien invasion.

Not in any way.

For him to share information with me. 

Without hesitation. 

With a cold, frozen, yet ultimately calm voice, Rickard Ellington Conway had answered my interrogation thoughtlessly.

Eyeing him, I saw how... peaceful his features looked. 

Even though he was burning with fever, it was as though my touch and the sound waves were transgressing through his veins, seeping into him. 

With his closed eyes, the peace of his expression reminded me from when I saw him sleeping, months ago.

I fidgeted, at a loss of words, and he opened his eyes at that, as he reached with his free right hand to the light button above the chest of drawers next to him, and pressed it off. 

We sank in darkness.

It's not like the light was a lot anyway, as the only light turned on was that next to the bed, which I had turned on earlier.

And now it was no longer there.

From the wide glass door which separated the room from the balcony, moonlight shot through, highlighting his harsh and sharp features, and his beauteous eyes glowing in the dark. 

Moonlight... And a bed talk...

Memories from a similar night back in the Tottenham days flashed to my memory.

Good lord... time...

Well, now that I think about it, the last time we had such a night talk in his room back in the estate...

It was in such a dark aura as well.

As though... It soothed him more.

What a weird human...

I wet my lips, eyeing him curiously, unable to comment with anything meaningful. 

Mainly because what he'd said spoke millions of things in two simple words. 

Keeping his concentrated, composed gaze at the ceiling, the blue within his eyes shone beautifully like a starry night. 

"I have had three... women who, in my lifetime, had displayed candid and genuine," He paused, his jaw moving slowly, in clear search for a perfect, acceptable vocab to continue his sentence with, "Sentiment, towards me." He spoke, his voice frozen, and yet somewhere very deep, and unreachable in its core... it had that hidden vulnerability...

"Madre was the first." He muttered, his tone low, yet haughtily frozen. 

He was such a paradox. 

For someone speaking about something that clearly meant a lot to him, that clearly had a priceless value to him, he had an unmoved, unfazed voice. 

He never failed to amaze me. 

I wet my lips. "And by sentiment, you mean..." I let it hang, awaiting to see how he viewed the word. 

He kept his unwavering gaze towards the ceiling, and from beneath my hand, I could feel his composed, harmonic heartbeat propagating through his left hand straight from his stone cold heart. 

It took him some long, silent moments of thinking to register his answer back.

"Care," He mouthed throatily, after some long silent moments, "The concern about my well being." He spoke very slowly, as though he was paying for every word he was speaking, as he maintained his tone. After some silent seconds, he continued again. "I might describe it as some form of selflessness when it came to doing what's best in my interest."

I blinked, wow, that had taken him some good thinking...

Before I could comment, his voice came clear and precise, as he added, "And by interest, I am not indicating physical or financial interest." He mouthed, his gaze clearly dazed, as though all the coldness and arrogance in it were not really concentrated on anything, but were rather looking at some image he had in mind... a memory. "But simply my..." He paused again, and a small smile crossed my lips. 

It was actually impressive. 

The almighty, thoughtless and conceited him, who always had hard vocab in his diction to use... Was facing trouble in expressing a word as simple as... 'happiness'. 

I got what he was pointing at, as I kept my warm smile at him. "Happiness?" 

He went silent, and I could tell he didn't plan to elaborate further on the word. 

Eyeing the tattoo again, combined with his handsomely composed expression, my interest sparked. "Hey, what was she saying here though?" 

He kept his peaceful gaze towards the ceiling, and it clearly displayed he was not really seeing the ceiling in his insight. "That's too personal to share." 

I blinked, and just observed him silently, respecting what he'd said, as he kept his silent thoughtful pondering. 

A minute or so passed, and we remained in silence. 

Until I finally decided to break it, "By the way, who... who are the other two women?" 

He responded not, as he shut his eyes at that, "Enough with the chattering. We have a long day tomorrow, let's head to sleep." 

He was very mistaken if he thought I would drop such a thing.

Not when she was on my mind as candidate. 

Not when he was... blessing me with revelations I never thought I'd hear from him, even if they were with little wording.

"Is Reina one of them?"

He stiffened slightly beneath my touch, but opened his eyes not. 

I fixed him with a determined gaze, and somehow I felt he could feel it on him.

Wordlessly, after some seconds, he nodded. 

Of course she was. 

I bit my lips, a knot forming in my throat.

Hey... Why am I...hurting at such a thought?

I mean, I saw it coming didn't I? 

From the moment he mentioned about three women who'd shown him love that... left its mark –literally– in his life... I expected it, no?

So why...? Why am I hurting? 

Why do I suddenly feel so hurt being in the same bed as him?! 

It... It's not like I've not been in such a situation with him before, right?! We're here because we share a common interest and maybe some weird connection... 

But why would I have a problem with the love of his life being among the most three influential women in his life, huh?!! 

I went silent, as I removed my hand from over the tattoo, and I moved away from his side of the bed. 

Before I could sink in to sleep as away as possible like I'd intended to, his voice came, unwavering, absolute, and haughtily thoughtless, a teeny-tiny almost nonpresent hint of amusement present in it:

"You did not inquire who the third woman was. Are you not curious?"

I blinked, causing the hidden tears at the edges of my eyes to blur my vision a bit, but they didn't come down. I froze in my place, as I turned towards him again, frowning slightly as I shrugged. "It's probably your sister, or Sarah." 

His full lips, for a split of a second, twitched, and he opened his eyes again. 

Hey, was there something so amusing about what I said?!

"In the absence of a mother and the presence of my father's wife, as an older sibling, the sentiment I was talking off was something I provided for my younger siblings, and not the other way around." He murmured, his tone unfazed, "As for Sarah..." He paused, clearly searching for proper diction, "When I first met the woman, she was someone who lacked the sentiments herself. You have known her relatively shortly, but back then, she was someone who was looking for a comfort zone." His voice still held the chilliness it had moments ago, it was just clearly cautious...

"And one who lacks something, can never ever offer it."

My body froze at his statement, and my eyes widened.

As a single scene of Sebastian Keith back in our last encounter before my six months break was done, flashed before my eyes. 

It was back when he beat me up in our Karate fight...

' "Look I..." he started, "You once mentioned something about having someone to protect." He caught my gaze again at that, as he parted his lips.

"I don't know how you see it, but I can confidently tell you this:" He started. 

"One who lacks something, can never ever offer it." '

I gasped, and eyed him with wide eyes.

Those two... What... What the hell were they?!

"This statement..." I started in stun, "Sebastian Keith has literally told me the same statement months ago!!" I breathed in disbelief. 

From before me, his eyes widened, remaining at the ceiling. 

"How do you guys know each other?" I started, frowning at him, "Wh-What's the issue with the feud between you?!!!" 

His eyes regained their size back at that, as he closed them. "Sleep, this topic is not discussion material." 

I frowned, letting out an exasperated sigh, "I saw how you interacted, Mr. Ellington! What the hell was all that tension in the aura?! Yet at the same time the unmistakable chemistry that, for a second, might even compete with the one you have with Leonard!" I breathed, "I...I really care to know!" 

Keeping his eyes closed, a muscle in his jaw pulsed. "You need to differentiate between information I don't share because I am a secretive individual by personality, and information I don't share because I do not wish to share in particular. This is the latter case, meaning this topic is a hopeless case. Sleep, because you will not reach anywhere with it." He mouthed, clear ice dripping off of his words despite his burning fever.

I sighed, clearly understanding what he meant, as I kept on observing him.

He looked so handsome beneath the moonlight. 

I eyed his free right hand, which was laid over the blanket on his stomach. 

I blinked, seeing it still had the wristwatch on it. 

Looking towards him again, I saw he hadn't opened his eyes again.

Maybe he really fell asleep. I reached out for the watch, aiming to remove it for him to give his hand more comfort during his sleep.

The moment my hand made contact with his watch though, his right hand shifted, gripping my wrist slightly roughly. 

I gasped, eyeing him. 

He still had his eyes shut, and his expression remained composed. "What," He murmured, the hoarseness in his voice reflecting he was actually in semi-sleep somehow. "Are you doing?" 

"Um, I thought the watch might pressure a lot over your wrist, especially that it's heavy, so..." I blurted, gently, fidgeting.

A moment of silence passed, as he pondered over my reasoning silently. 

His large hand at that let go of my wrist, clearly giving me green light to carry on my task.

I undid the watch slowly, as I observed it. 

Wow, it was really heavy now that I held it. 

As I placed it over the chest of drawers next to him, its screen caught my attention.

Specifically, the mini-watch inside its screen.

I remember I had noticed this before...

It was stopped. 

As in the clock was stopped. 

At twelve. 

And like I'd previously noted, it must have been stopped manually, as the other clock was moving correctly. 

Curiosity surged through me, and yet upon looking at him, I saw how peaceful his expression was.

I'll ask some other time, I guess. 

As I moved to sink beside him, a final glance at his bicep tattoo drew my attention to something.

Reaching out for the tattoo, the Adam stiffened slightly under my touch. 

Looking towards his face, I eyed as his sharp jaw moved slightly, and his thick symmetric eyebrows were slightly furrowed, "What now?" His tone was low, cold, and throaty.

I giggled at the slight annoyance present there, as I smiled gently at the tattoo. 

Tracing the outlines of the sound wave with my finger tips, I observed how consistent in altitude they