12. Fine sculpture

Amara could feel her heart beat erratically. Beat any faster and she would really have a heart attack soon. 

"I-I…I'll treat it….," she uttered like a fool. She didn't see the bruise, but seriously, who would believe something like that when she didn't even put much force into it? And her nails were cut neatly and short because of the nature of her work! 

So, there was no way it would really leave a mark!

But she already mumbled such stupidity to his exaggeration.

Azer chuckled and finally moved a few inches away from her. She sighed in relief. He asked amusingly, "How?"

"I…have an ointment inside," She replied and finally looked at his hand. Her eyes widened in shock. There was really a bruise! She spun her head to look at him again, "Are you alright?"

"Pfft."

"What are you laughing at?"

"You were reluctant to even believe me a while ago, but now you looked concerned."

"I'm…not concerned," She looked away with a pout. "Release me. The ointment is inside. I'll give it to you."

Azer said nothing and let the doorknob go. She opened the door and entered, rolling her eyes at Vida who was sitting at her drawing table, wiggling her eyebrows at her. That friend of hers will surely bug her once they are left alone. 

"Wait just a few more minutes," she muttered as she passed by to her. She climbed upstairs and took the ointment she had inside the drawer under her bedside table. Opening the door to her room to go back, she stared at the small and flat bottle of salve.

It felt so ridiculous to give it for a tiny bruise. But she already told him she'll treat it. She was still annoyed at his actions, yet she also felt a bit guilty. She sighed in frustration and continued walking out.

Reaching the top landing of the wooden stairs, Amara stopped in her tracks when she heard a conversation below. The talk doesn't seem to be good due to their tones. She furrowed her brows and thought what could have happened.

"Lend me your hand." 

Vida walked away and sat back in the corner, while Azer's expression didn't seem good. He was glaring but his eyes were focused on Vida. Though he was clearly in a bad mood, he still extended his hand to her. 

She stood before him, holding his hand while carefully treating the bruise. His hand was big, very manly, quite rough and sturdy. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, and his lower arm was packed with visible veins, adding to his charismatic look.

Amara blinked twice to erase the growing urge inside her to caress his arm and felt those veins under her palms. She cleared her throat to somehow lift up the silent awkwardness.

But then she suddenly heard a scoff. 

She looked up with a frown. Did he realize her thoughts? Amara nervously asked herself.

However, the man was only staring down at their joined hands. His long eyelashes lowered; his grey eyes were following the movement of her hand. When it stopped applying the ointment, only then did he move his eyes to her.

'Again.' Amara mumbled inside. 'His eyes were hypnotizing.'

Azer uttered words that snapped her in her trance, "It still hurts. Apply some more."

His voice was soft like a whisper her skin tingling from the alluring sound. It was as though his voice was trying to seduce her, yet his face was no more than a canvas of indecipherable abstract.

She was bewildered. She couldn't help but ask herself. 'What's happening to me?'

Like a whirlpool that slowly sucks in everything, Amara felt like falling into that sinkhole, unable to stop herself from exploring the dangerous and mysterious space beyond.

Just when she thought she was too deep to be saved, a loud bang reverberated inside the entire store.

It was the sound of a table being slammed loudly enough to destroy their eardrums. Not only that, but the ointment she held jumped with her due to surprise. It flew to Azer, and the cream inside stained his clothes.

"Oh…"

Amara looked back to Vida who she caught sweeping the small table in the corner. She was ready to scold her friend for the noise, but Vida immediately opened her mouth and explained.

"Sorry, sorry. There was a bug so I slapped it," Vida answered while clapping her hands to get rid of invisible dust. She smiled awkwardly at them and looked really apologetic.

"Did you kill it?" Azer asked which took Amara aback. His tone didn't sound curious at all, but it sounded like he was checking something.

Vida grinned widely, "Unfortunately, the bug escaped. You should sweep the floor later, Ara. It seems some bugs got in."

"I guess…I should."

"Are you done treating him?" Vida went over. "My goodness! Your clothes are a mess, mister. You should hurry back home and change it, lest the stain will be hard to wash off when it dries."

Azer frowned at her, but Amara nodded. 

"I'm sorry. It was my fault. I was startled," she apologized and reached for a piece of clean rag she uses to wipe her products. She diligently wiped the brown stain on his white shirt.

Azer's body stiffened when she reached for his clothes. There was a thin fabric between them, but it felt like he could feel the warmth of her hand. And it wasn't the only thing that had been bugging his mind since earlier, but the fact that he could properly see her bare face.

Amara wasn't wearing her tiny mask, as she forgot to put it on after getting woken up by her visitors. She even tied her hair in a bun, unlike her usual appearance where her hair was always covering her face.

The strands of those auburn hair that brushed underneath his chin were enough to stir something inside him. He was attracted to this woman. Azer admitted that. What he couldn't understand was why.

He recalled what his attendant once said. And he thought, if other women could be his hidden mate, then why didn't he think that she might be as well? Hans didn't include her because she clearly didn't seem attracted to him, but who knows?

He would be glad if she was actually her mate. But until he is certain, he won't let those feelings get deeper.

Azer looked down and saw her scar. It was as though an artist had accidentally brushed his paintbrush in her face, only that the paint was permanent. Her eyes were lowered as she was too busy to clean his shirt. 

Those strands of bright-colored hair that fell on her forehead were getting in the way of his sight. And he was tempted to brush them aside, so he could watch her face without any hindrance. 

"I'm really sorry," Amara mumbled again.

Azer held her hand to stop her from going further. He cleared his throat and replied, "How…are you going to pay for this?"

"Huh?" She looked up and met his eyes again.

"You said it's your fault," Azer added. He looked so serious that she was left gaping. 

"Hey, mister. I didn't know you were this petty," Vida interrupted. 

"This is my favorite shirt. But she ruined it."

Vida clicked her tongue and glared at him, "It's my fault. Let me pay for it. Tell me how much it cost."

Azer scoffed at Vida and retorted, "I don't think you can afford it."

Amara examined his white polo shirt. It was plain white, the fabric looked smooth but sturdy, and the buttons weren't that expensive-looking. It was like any other working man would wear in his daily work.

"Are you kidding? Who do you think you are? It doesn't even look expensive! Who knows whose shirt did you snatch away in someone's backyard!" Vida fumed and yelled at him. She thought how could a man be so shameless!

Amara was squeezed between them, not knowing what to do. The two clearly didn't like each other, although she thought it was the first time they met.

Azer ignored her friend and turned to her again. "How are you going to fix my favorite shirt?"

Vida, "Hey!"

She held Vida by the shoulder as she was about to attack him, though Azer didn't even flinch. She sighed in relief that he wasn't trying to fight Vida back.

Amara answered honestly, "If it's expensive then I can't pay for it. But if it's okay with you…I think I can fix it by simply washing."

Azer gave her a subtle smile, "Then I'll let you wash it."

"Uh, okay. Give me your shirt then. I'll return it after I clean it." She replied. She whispered to her frowning friend as she dragged her away, "Can you wait upstairs?"

"What?!"

"Vida," She pouted when Vida looked at her as if she heard something unbelievable. "Please?"

Vida sighed and shook her head, "Fine. Scream if that man did something to you, understood?"

To end her worries and comebacks, Amara nodded and smiled at her sweetly.

After Vida went upstairs, she turned around to tend to her other guest, but her eyes widened when they landed on a perfectly defined chest and abdomen. His trousers were generous enough to show her the line of his pelvis, and she could even peek at some veins going down his covered manhood.

Amara couldn't help but gasped. She immediately looked up so she wouldn't see anything, but that action was a mistake.

As she lifted her eyes from those packs that looked sturdier as a brick, she met with those grey eyes that sparkled with mischief from witnessing her flustered appearance. Blood ran up to her cheeks, painting her face as red as her hair.

She was caught gawking at his body! 

Amara slowly turned around, mumbling to herself, "Y-You can…leave the shirt there…"

She pointed at her wedging table by the glass windows. But with the sound of her beating heart, she doubted if the man heard her words.