85. You're Undressing Me

Continued...

 "I didn't peg you as a vindictive type, Gabrielle." His growling voice, sneering face and disappointed glare had now began to turn smooth, impassive and amused judging, respectively. 

Admittedly, I can be a very vindictive, vengeful kind if scorned properly. However, in this case, although he did a tremendous job at that, I too have gotten even pretty satisfyingly, I believe. 

I took a little too long to answer him though, "I didn't mean to-"

"Good to know." He cut me off with finality in his voice, "I'll keep in my and pay the favor back, next time." 

Alright, this isn't good. Not good at all. 

Him paying the favor back means he is going to do something bad too. Most likely to me or by extension to my car. 

No! This game of jab and insults back and forth has gone far enough. I draw a line now that it has extended to my beloved Ferrari.

He began to turn on his axis. I had to stop him and clear the misunderstanding before the actual vindictive prick comes for my car.

Haven't the poor thing already been through enough?

"Wait!" I exclaimed and to my surprise, he actually listened. Like he stopped and turned half way to me. 

"Look, I didn't know it was going to hit your car, alright?" I tried speaking with firm conviction under his intimidating gaze and tall form towering over me.

My face was trying to take a page from his book in remaining straight, so straight that it becomes unsettling at times.

"I don't believe you." he simply replied and once again moved to show me his back.

What?

"Hey wait!" I blurted out, quick on my steps I rushed to block his way. I now stood between him and his beloved shiny, vintage convertible. It was saucy I'd give him that... but I still like my Ferrari better.

Dracken looked like he could be anywhere right now but here with the way he sighed and gave me a bored expression. 

Bored or not, it was at least something other than the constant devoid of emotions expression. Which come to think of it, shouldn't be called an expression at all.

"Listen. I am not looking for a fight. I didn't mean to kick the rock so hard that it would hit your car-" he opened his mouth to say something and cut me off again. 

A habit which I have begun to absolutely despise, yet I took a breath to calm the rising temper as I showed him my palm.

This is no time to play our little game of 'who hates who more'. Not when a more pressing matter was at bay.

"I wasn't finished." I reminded him firmly and waited until he closed his mouth shut before continuing. "I do not wish for the animosity between us to go any further. This ends here, now." My forefinger was pointing down as I watched him carefully to see if he protests.

I gulped, being under his unrelenting scrutinizing gaze for this long without him throwing a detectable insult my way to distract both of us is far worse then looking at his impassive facial features.

It's like I can't tell what goes on behind those swirling pool of icy blue eyes. He could be planning ways to wring my neck right now and I would think I am getting trough to him.

Why did his eyes do that?

That color—so pale, so eerily light, like ice. Or mist. Or something just as lifeless.

Devoid of any color just like he is of emotions.

It's like, even his eyes weren't allowed to bring color to his bleak personality.

"Are you trying to flirt with me, Gabrielle?" 

His choice of words were definitely played an equivalent part of dumping ice cold water over my head with how it jolted me back from my recurrent analysis over his odd eyes and personality flaws.

"Excuse me?" I couldn't help the oncoming grimace at the thought. It was a repulsive one.

"What in the world makes you think that?" I asked incredulously, wondering what part of this conversation did he misread so horribly wrong?

"How about, your googly eyes staring at me like you're undressing me in your mind?" He voiced his vile thought so casually like it was a common occurence for him. Perhaps, it was.