RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 93: FRIDA -

"Lord, you’re gorgeous as hell."

His dark gray eyes wide and curious, in stark contrast to the sweat glistening on his chest. She swallowed hard, captivated.

She took a slow, mouthwatering look at him. "You know something crazy?" she murmured, her voice low and teasing.

"What?" he asked, his tone soft but his gaze darkening as she approached.

She leaned in, her hands running slowly over his abs, tracing every inch of muscle. "You look so good." She smiled, then winced.

"Fuck, my face hurts," she sighed.

He turned, lowering the stove to low heat. "Everything hurts, actually..."

His dark eyes scanned her face, trailing down her neck to the swell of her chest beneath the pajama top. "I know I look hideous," she sighed, starting to turn away. "Sorry, I was trying to be sexy. I think I’ll just go to bed now."

Before she could leave, his arms caught her, wrapping around her waist. He lifted her effortlessly and placed her on the sofa in the living room. novelbuddy.cσ๓

He walked to a nearby cabinet, retrieved a first aid kit, and returned to her side. "Are you comfortable? Because this will hurt a bit," he said tenderly, his eyes warm and reassuring.

"Wow. Here I am trying to seduce you, and you’re just trying to look after my well-being. Do you carry first aid kits everywhere?" she said, rolling her eyes, though her heart fluttered wildly.

"Yes. I have a pretty, smart, med-student-soon-to-be-girlfriend, and I have to take good care of her, so I’m always ready," he teased, distracting her as he wiped her cheek with a wet swab. She hissed in pain.

"Fuck, that hurts," she whispered, clutching his shoulders tightly.

"Four more swipes, and we’re good," he encouraged her softly. He finished cleaning the wounds, then gently wiped away her tears before placing an ice pack on her cheek.

"I’m ugly, right?" she whispered, convinced her face looked awful.

His eyes softened, staring at her as though she were the only star in the sky.

"I know who Shelly is now," she said suddenly.

His brows lifted slightly, silently urging her to continue.

"She’s a personality I created as a coping mechanism after, you know..." She trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

His free hand covered hers, squeezing gently. "The whole abuse thing... You know he won’t forgive you for killing Sniper."

Laz shrugged, setting the ice pack aside and picking up cute Kuromi-designed band-aids. He placed them delicately on her cheek.

"He’s going to kill us. Aren’t you worried about that?" she asked, watching his face for any sign of fear.

Nothing. His expression remained calm, his gaze focused solely on her. His fingers trailed lightly over the freshly dressed wounds, and then he did something unexpected—he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Then the other. Then her nose, her throat, her shoulders. His hands moved to the buttons of her nightwear as he looked into her eyes and said, very slowly, "May I show you how beautiful you are?"

Her breath hitched, her lungs seizing as she nodded.

He undid her buttons with great care, treating her as though she were made of glass. He kissed the bruises on her shoulder, between her cleavage, and on her belly.

Sliding her shirt off, he kissed the bruises on her arms and counted softly, "One." He kissed.

"Two." He kissed.

"Three." He kissed.

"Six." He kissed, slipping her trousers down her hips.

Starting from her ankles, he kissed the bruises on her legs, her knees, her thighs, and the scars along the way.

"Fourteen." He kissed her hips and the bruise on her thigh.

She trembled beneath his touch, her breathing labored. He rose to meet her gaze.

"You think I don’t desire you?" he asked darkly, guiding her hand to the hardness in his pants. He whispered, "This is what you do to me."

She shivered in delight, anticipation building, just as the smell of something burning yanked them back to reality.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, darting to the kitchen.

She sat up, shrugging her nightshirt back on before he returned with a plate of food that made her mouth water.

"Hungry?" he asked, setting the dish before her.

"Starving," she said, eyeing the plate of perfectly cooked chicken, soup, rice, and fruit salad.

"How did you make all this in thirty minutes?" she asked, taking a bite of chicken and moaning in delight.

"I’m used to it, sunrise," he said, pouring wine into two glasses.

She downed hers in one gulp.

"Whoa. That’s a strong wine, Frida. Take it easy. I was just trying to distract you from the pain," he said, his voice tinged with concern.

She giggled and hiccupped. "OMG, you’re so cute when you’re worried."

"Are you drunk already?" he teased, laughing.

Frida waved her hand dismissively. "Not really. Just tipsy. It is strong." She absently chewed her chicken. "You know, Shelly was so rebellious in middle school. She’d run away, and your dad would always have to bring her back home. When you moved away, thankfully, Laurel came into your dad’s life. What would I have become?"

Laz nodded, pouring her another glass. "Yeah. Laurel saved us both, huh?"

Frida nodded, sipping thoughtfully. "Shelly was out of control. I thought she was gone for good."

"Yeah, me too. Until recently. I met her," he said.

Her brow arched. "You did? I haven’t met her yet. I think she takes over sometimes."

"Well, who do you want more between us?" she asked playfully.

He shrugged. "Is that even a question?"

"Yes. Shelly was wild and crazy about you," she said, chuckling and hissing as pain shot through her.

"She’s just a part of you. And just like I love your body and your flesh, I love all your personalities. No matter how many there are, I’d love all of them because they’re still you," he said, his voice raw with emotion.

A wild blush spread across her cheeks.

When she stretched, pain shot through her again. "Ow! My body hurts."

He took the dishes to the kitchen, returned with painkillers, and slipped one between her lips, handing her a bottle of water.

"Come with me," he said, taking her hand.

He led her to a serene room lit with candles. It was clean, soothing, and smelled faintly of lavender.

Picking up a bottle of oil and a towel, he smiled. "Let me give you a massage."

Without hesitation, she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall. "Yes, please."