25. A blindfold for the beholder of the beauty

25. A blindfold for the beholder of the beauty
“But I’ll show you. If you’re lucky, you might still have a few lives left,” she teased as her fingers hovered over the next button.
Oh, my heart was beating loudly, racing really fast as I tried really hard to focus.
That’s right, I needed to focus and not get distracted by this succubus in the form of a doctor.
She was temptation in flesh, breathing out seduction where I exhaled CO2.
I needed to focus. Breathe in oxygen instead.
“Focus, Mia, focus,” I started to chant in my head. My lips were quivering with drool sticking out on the side.
But it was fine, because I closed my eyes the next minute and got a moment of clarity.
In that moment, it took me every self-restraint I had but I used it to say the magic word: “No!”
I think I sounded more aggressive than I should have, but that aggressiveness was exactly what I needed to save myself from being entranced.
“No, I don’t want to see. It doesn’t matter what you’re made of because I’m not here for that.”
“Oh?” she burst out laughing so beautifully, so hard that I felt myself to be a clown. However, just before I could get fully distracted by the beauty she exuded in her happy state, I closed my eyes and continued while my hand fumbled around the bed for a piece of clothing.
Anything I could use to blindfold myself just so I could focus on what really mattered.
I blushed with different emotions flowing through me. Just her own happiness, anger at my situation, and confusion at the mix of both.
But somehow I was fine. It was okay.
No, it’s not!
I strongly reminded myself.
I probably have an allergy and it hasn’t been discovered yet.
“So, please, let’s figure this out as soon as possible. I don’t want to spend another night here.”
“Are you serious? We’re in the afternoon.”
“I’m as serious as death,” I said as I looked sharply into her eyes before closing my eyes again.
My hand found a handkerchief. It had some kind of emblem I didn’t bother to study before I folded it and tied it around my eyes.
“Also, we will have our future conversations this way,” I pouted, my voice louder as I straightened my back, feeling more in control than ever.
“We will?”
“Hmm,” I nodded.
“Okay then, in that case, I can’t be bothered to talk to someone who wouldn’t look me in the eye. I have a suggestion. Direct, although it might hurt a bit.”
“I’m all ears,” I nodded. I couldn’t see her movement, but I could very well imagine her leaning forward with the ever-present smirk on her face while her eyes raked my whole body with a condescending tease in them.
The thought sent shivers down my torso.
Somehow, I’d become more sensitive, and my imagination had gotten wilder.
Because now, she didn’t stop at the first button.
“We’ll have you taste the food again to determine which exact one made you react, then we’ll develop an antidote based on it.”
“What?” I opened my eyes under the blindfold, and it stung before I closed them again.
“And then you’ll have me shit my intestines out while throwing up again. No, I’m not doing that!” I protested.
“We can exclude that part if you take this beforehand,” she said, and I heard her get closer, imagined her rising from her chair like a siren coming out of the salty oceans at midnight, her hair glistening in the moonlight and—
“What’s this?” My face contorted into an ugly frown as the tablet she tipped into my mouth started to dissolve. It had a very strong taste. I instinctively tried to spit it out, except she pinched my nose at that exact moment, forcing me to gasp for air and thus swallow the pill with the aid of the water she poured in my mouth.
Perfect. I might as well have just been poisoned without knowing the color of the pill.
Thanks to my fucking blindfold!
At this juncture, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take it off to see the look in her eyes or take the coward’s way and hope everything goes well.
In the end, I followed the latter. The distraction she offered was way too risky. I didn’t want to know how it would end.
“I’ll call for the chef, and this will be over before midnight if you cooperate,” she said, and I gulped, dozing off while waiting for the food. One hour passed before it was prepared.
“The chef was so scared for his life,” she said as she placed the tray on the bedside table, the aroma steaming into my nose.
“What about the other doctor and nurses?” I asked.
“I don’t need distractions. This success is going to be mine and mine alone.” There was a hint of greed in her tone, the way one would sound when they lose themselves. I imagined it was a look that would throw me off.
“I’m going to feed you so you don’t see what you’re eating.”
It made sense, what she said, but for a different reason, my stomach did a somersault.
I wanted to pat myself on the shoulder for making the smart choice of keeping the handkerchief on. Because I knew that if she stared at me up close while putting food in my mouth, I would let her do a lot more—and a lot worse—that could potentially damage me.
All without feeling remorse.