His Cure

“it’s okay, just ignore me.”he removed her palm from his head.

“How can I do that?.”she scoffed.

He stared at her.

“If you die, who do you think they would suspect?”she uttered.

“It’s fine.”he muttered.

“Let me get a water to..”she tried to stand up.

He pulled her back.

“No.”he shook his head.

She huffed.

“Listen, we have to stop this from escalating into something big.”

He placed his head on her shoulder, to her surprise.

“Let me stay like this for a moment.”he closed his eyes.

Beatrice eyes twitched and she pouts her lips.

“Five minutes.”

“Five minutes it is then.”he spoke.

Beatrice stared down at him and blinked before throwing her gaze away.

After about five minutes, Gregory raised his head up from her shoulder and looked at her just to find out she has started dozing off.

He leaned back in his seat and glanced out of the plane’s window.

He stared at her and saw her head sloping to the side, drowsily.

He snorted before positioning it on his shoulder.

Just until she wakes up.

The plane landed in Paris and Gregory grunted.

It turns out her little nap has turned into a full sleep.

He tapped her left shoulder gently.

She turned her head on his shoulder and grumbled.

“Miss Beatrice..”he called lowly.

“Hm?”she answered with her eyes still shut.

“You need to wake up. We are here.”he informed.

“Okay, I will.”she nodded her head against his shoulder.

Gregory waited for her to do as she’d promised, however, she still seems to be enjoying her sleep.

He grunted, lifted her head up from his shoulder and placed it against the seat and stood up.

He would just order someone to come get her.

He walked towards the staircase but halted and glanced back at her.

Then, groaning, he walked back to her and hefted her up in a bridal style.

He descended the stairs down with her in his arms and their driver along with their tour guide who happens to be a female walked to him.

“Welcome, sir”the driver bowed to him.

“Glad you’re here, Mr Gregory.”the woman smiled before her eyes trailed off to Beatrice.

“This is your wife.”she uttered and looked back at him.

“Is that a question?”Gregory jibed.

“It is not, you already know that, Mr Gregory.”she chuckled out a reply.

Gregory moves to the car and dropped Beatrice in the backseat.

“I will drive ahead of you guys so I can take you to where the house I prepared for both of you is.”she informed.

“Sure.”Gregory gave a nod before circling the car around and sat beside Beatrice.

…

They got to a villa and Gregory groused again since he’d to carry the sleeping beauty yet again.

“I will come by tomorrow’s morning.”the woman said.

Gregory scooped Beatrice up in his grasp before turning to the woman,

“What’s your name?”Gregory inquired.

She smiled.

“Well, why do you wanna know my name, Mr Gregory?”she flicked her hair aside.

“I have to know the name of our tour guide, no?”he scoffed.

“Unless, of course, if you want me to refer to you as miss blue hair.”

The lady beamed in embarrassment.

“Laura, my name is Laura.”

“You do look Laura.”he rasped before marching away.

Laura blushed slightly before getting inside her car then drove off.

Gregory went to drop Beatrice in a room upstairs.

##

Beatrice’s eyes flapped opened and she narrowed her eyes at the estranged environment.

She sat up and rubbed her face.

She scratched her hair and tried to recollect some memories.

She got the scene of when Gregory dropped his head on her shoulder.

He’d promised to stay like that for five minutes and..

Oh, snap!

She slept off…

She groaned.

She ruffled her hair, throwing a part to cover her face.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

She brushed her hair back and got down from the bed.

He must be the one that brought her inside this room.

He removed her shoes also.

She slipped her legs in the flip – flops and tottered out of the room.

She took the stairs down and located the kitchen without much stress.

She never fails in that!

Gregory was in the room that moment.

Beatrice squinted her eyes.

“You can cook?”she questioned, surprised.

He glanced back at her and covered the pot.

“You’re awake.”he frowns.

“Yes, I am. I thought you didn’t know how to cook?”

“What was the impression that prompted you to have such conjecture?”he walked past her.

She folded her arms and follow behind him.

“Back at the island, the triplets said you had never cooked for them.”she uttered.

He snatched his phone from the sofa and turned back to the direction of the kitchen.

She turned behind him too.

“You’re not going to say anything?”she blinked her eyes.

“I have the right to remain silent.”he said, gruffly.

Beatrice scoffed.

Then, she remembered that she’d assumed he doesn’t eat except drink his coffee before too.

Her presumptions of him was wrong then.

“So, what are you cooking?”she peeked inside the pot as he opened it.

“None of your concern.”he breathed out.

“Well, why?. Don’t I have the right to know what I am going to eat?”

He covered the pot and stared at her.

“Who said I was cooking for you?”he scoffed.

Beatrice’s brows moved up, quizzically.

“You’re only cooking for yourself?. What am I supposed to eat then?”

“You know how to cook, don’t you?”he sat on the stool behind the counter.

“You’re basically saying I should cook my food myself?”

“I didn’t know you don’t understand simple sentences.”he remarked with his two thumbs typing away fastly on his phone’s keyboard.

Beatrice stomped her feets on the ground, frustratedly.

“It could have cost you nothing to prepare the food for both of us! You don’t have to be so compassionless!”she fumed.

He looked up at her.

“Why do I have to care about you?. This is a contract; Each parties has its own duties to fulfill.”he stared back at his phone.

“How long have you been cooking?”she questioned.

“I don’t know why you’re asking but it should be about thirty minutes ago.”he responded without eyeballing her.

“Great.”she smirked.

She stepped to where the pot was and switched the cooker off then carried the food and poured it away in the trash can.

“Now, we are even.”