I Hate You, Mr. Black

It took too much effort to be attentive towards the shoot when he was right before me.

Manspreading, he licked his lips along with strong eyes contemplating me as an urge to devour me flashed.

I saw it!

I swear, for a second, it felt like he would do anything to consume me into darkness. Into some wicked web and I won’t be able to escape even if I wanted to.

Please let it be my imagination.

I prayed hopelessly, I shook my head and continued working, blocking all the negative aura received by him which only worsened when he approached me after the shoot.

“Coffee?”

No compliments? Not even a ‘good job'?

I was about to reject it but Byron, for the sake of reducing the animosity and breaking the wall between us, interrupted me.

“Of course, she would love to, Mr. Black,”

Sighing, I rolled my eyes, folding my arms at my chest. His eyes darkened, observing my actions carefully that made me slightly unsettled.

I didn’t want to but Byron forced me as we were at a nearby coffee shop.

My gaze was out of the window, unsure what to speak when he was observing me. Carefully, very carefully.

And I was desperately endeavoring to block the radiance of those questionable eyes, scanning me like an open book.

“So,” He cleared his throat, “What’s the score, Marianne?”

“3 to 1,” I spoke so fast that my eyes widened, realizing what I said as he laughed faintly, waving his hand.

“So you actually stopped me to pay me back,”

I panicked, “N-No, no, I mean,”

“Leave it. It’s all written on your face,” He shrugged, gesturing to me to relax but it was the only thing I was unable to do in his presence.

When the coffee arrived, I sparked a conversation, hoping to cut the thick air which was hastening my beats.

Seriously, to sit two minutes alone with him was too much for me.

“So, I heard you wanted to start your own brand for a long time, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, It was a dream which I am finally fulfilling, I couldn’t find the right people and time for it but now I do.” He smiled, taking a sip.

“I am finally doing what my parents couldn’t.”

“Really?”

“Hmm,” He hummed, pausing for a moment, “Although I had zero expectations from you but you proved me wrong,”

“Why is that? Have you not heard or seen my walk?” I chuckled gracefully.

Finding it hard to believe that he had no hopes from me, the supermodel, one of the finest models currently. I mean, he hired me.

“I did but I thought you would deliberately sabotage me since you glare at me all the time,” Oh, nice idea.

I forced a smile, tilting my head, “Am I glaring now?”

“Yes, but, tell me,”

Resting his elbow on the table, he placed his chin over his palm in order to lean in and locked those eyes with mine, hitching my breaths while challenging me.

“Am ‘I’ glaring now?”

I accepted his challenge and narrowed my eyes, shifting forward as well. Solely focused on finding out, nothing else.

I stared, and stared, attempting to find any sign of wrath, hostility in his eyes but all he displayed was a sly smile.

Tilting his head, an aura of charms swirled around him and after a thorough inspection, when I found not a single indication of negativity, I trailed off nervously.

“... Uh, no…?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, breaking the contact and poking my forehead without a warning.

“Wrong answer.”

Before I could demand an explanation, he was already standing. He slid his shades on, the dark lenses hiding his expression as a sudden, cold austerity returned to his posture.

“Let’s go back.” He turned and walked away without a backward glance while I kept staring.

What did he mean, wrong answer?

When we returned, I was standing by the monitors, reviewing the raw shots with Byron, when the air behind me shifted.

I didn’t need to look to know it was him, playing another game to twist my mind..

“Frame forty-two,” his voice came right next to my ear.

I stiffened, my breath hitching as he reached past me to point at the screen. He didn't just point, though. His arm brushed firmly against mine, as completely on purpose as he gripped my forearm for a second.

“Mr–” I gulped, raising my brows but before I could react he let go as the heat of his skin seared through the thin fabric of my sleeve.

I tried to shrink away, but he didn't move. Instead, he leaned further in, his chest nearly grazing my shoulder, his knee between my legs which froze me.

His other hand came up, resting, seemingly by accident, on my waist to steady himself as he squinted at the monitor breathing heavily in my ears.

“What do you think of this, Marianne?” He asked seductively, indirectly referring to the blazing heat of our body.

The touch was electric, enhancing my heartbeats, the coldness in my bone when I felt his knee against my thigh, surging a spark in my body.

“What–” I was about to turn but he held my chin and made me look at the monitor.

“About this.” He pressed himself into me more, draining my strength, inducing a thrill I attempted to resist.

His presence, his breaths, his scent, all was a lingering pressure that evoked the natural reaction of desire from within. My heart pounded against my ribcage as if it would leap out of my chest.

“Don’t you think it's…. Perfect?” He hummed on my neck.

And I knew he could feel the way my body betrayed me by tensing into a hard line of desire and panic. It made him smirk, darkly.

I looked up, ready to snap at him to watch his personal space, but he was already pulling away.

“The lighting is off on the jawline,” he said calmly to Byron back to his frontage of a professional indifference.

He didn't look at me. He didn't even acknowledge the fact that he had just sent my nervous system into a meltdown.

He checked his watch, adjusted his cuffs, and started walking toward the exit, “Fix the shadows for the next set, Marianne. Try not to look so... distracted.”

I stood there, mouth slightly agape, my skin still humming where he’d touched me.

The arrogance was staggering. He had dismantled my composure with a single ‘accidental’ touch and then tossed me aside like a discarded draft.

“Distracted?” I hissed under my breath, my face flushing a deep, embarrassed crimson.

“You clearly were.” He smirked.

I wasn't just angry anymore. I was humiliated. And the worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.