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I wonder what Samael would do if he knew about my feelings for him?
I shake my head, pushing away these childish thoughts.
I must keep in mind that Samael remains one of the top three people on my parents' forbidden list. The first is Manasseh, who's been the cause of numerous near-disasters in my life. Although my mom only knows about one incident, like the time he thought it was funny to push me, almost drowning me in the backyard barrel. So, it would be a huge problem if they found Sami here.
It could even cost me my life.
Samael is undoubtedly the second person on the forbidden list. Uriel comes in at number three, as he is the most peaceful among the brothers and isn't interested in rivalries.
But Samael is worth every risk.
The possibility of helping him brings me joy. I want to be there for him, even if he made me upset and forbade me from visiting their place.
“Do your cheeks hurt?” he suddenly asks.
“No. Why?” I blink, confused, and touch one cheek with my fingertips.
“Since I came in, you've been smiling non-stop. It's strange for a girl to sneak a boy into her bedroom.”
“That's precisely what I find amusing. I'm sneaking in the boy who not too long ago firmly told me he didn't want me in his house.”
“You're right. I'll leave,” Samael grabs my arms, attempting to move me away from the door, but before he can press the doorknob, I stop him.
“No!” I clutch his wrist with both hands, refusing to let go. „I want you to stay...” I say breathlessly, looking at him with desperation in my eyes.
His blue eyes look so much darker in the dimness of my room, where only the cool aquarium lamp my dad gave me for my fifth birthday lights up the corner near my bed. Samael's eyes briefly glance down at our intertwined fingers before meeting my gaze again. When I feel his intense stare locking onto mine, I flinch and let go.
“Okay, Rebecca. I'll stay,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he gives up on pressing the door handle.
“Okay,” I mutter, staring down at my bed, and my heart starts pounding like crazy.
Samael is in my room, at midnight, and we only have one bed!
The thought sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and I can't help but wonder what it would be like to sleep together. Would he hold my hand, and would we sleep facing each other, just like we used to do as kids? Just thinking about it makes me even more flustered, and I don't even notice that his clothes are soaking wet and probably needs a shower and fresh clothes. His slightly wavy hair escapes from the hood of his black hoodie, which clings to his pale skin, making him look thinner than he actually is, because Samael always wears baggy hoodies and regular jeans, even though ripped and distressed jeans are trendy now, and all the boys wear them to look cool.
But Sami isn't like all the other boys.
He likes to read, he loves milk, and he plays football not because it's cool to be on the school team, but because it keeps him busy. He doesn't care about being cool, and that makes him even cooler.
“Stay here!” I push him towards my bed, but he refuses to sit down.
“I don't want to mess up your bed,” he says.
“Then make yourself tiny!” I encourage him, grabbing the first aid kit.
I love doing this. Time to show off my mad medic skills.
“Is it fine like this?” Samael kneels down, and I grab a cotton pad, soaking it with alcohol.
“Perr-fect,” I say, syllable by syllable, as I gently pat his wounds.
“Ouch!” I see him flinch and frown, but I hold his chin and keep going.
“Don't move,” I look at his cracked lower lip after finishing with his forehead. I'm almost done.
“But it stings,” he grimaces, and I can't help but smile.
It's so funny when he complains like a little kid. I blow some cool air on the wound, and his forehead relaxes. His eyes wander to my lips, and it makes my stomach tighten. Samael stares at my mouth so intensely that I feel a warm flush heating up my face.
