Chapter 227
Andre stirred as soft morning light slipped through the rain-streaked window, casting a pale grey glow across the room. The power was still out, but the storm had passed—leaving behind nothing but the hush of a new day.
He blinked slowly, the ache in his shoulder drawing his attention first.
Cross.
The man's weight pressed against his arm—heavy, warm, and oddly grounding. His head was nestled just beneath Andre's chin, one hand resting loosely on Andre's chest like it had gotten there by accident during the night.
Andre didn't move.
Cross's breath was slow, even. Asleep.
But his weight... it was undeniable. Not just physically.
It sank into Andre's arm like something he hadn't realized he'd been carrying all night—a fragile trust, a silent apology. And despite the stiffness creeping up his bicep, Andre let it stay. He let him stay.
For once, the silence between them felt like a choice instead of a punishment.
Andre stared at Cross's face and wondered what had happened to him.
Why was he scared of the dark? Of the storm?
Florence never mentioned anything about traumas, so was this something he experienced personally and chose to keep to himself?
So it was just like he had told Cross last night: everyone has been through something, fought demons, survived.
In the end, Cross was no different from everyone else, he was just a man who was trying to build a defensive wall around himself, shutting people out by pretending to be mean so no one got the chance to see his vulnerability.
"Poor guy... what happened to you?" Andre raised his hand, almost touching Cross's face, but he halted, scared he might wake him and even get a slap on his face from an angry Cross.
He gently rubbed his eyes with his free hand, sighing.
He needed to go check what was up with their power supply, but how was he supposed to do that when Cross still slept so soundly on his arm?
He suddenly recalled something and returned his eyes to Cross.
"A boss indeed, sleeping like a baby when you should be up and fixing what the storm destroyed," He chuckled.
Cross suddenly stirred, and Andre wiped the smile off his face. From now on, he was going to be patient with Cross. Patient but distant.
He had realized that trying to force companionship on Cross backfired violently. So, he was going to respect Cross's boundaries while being patient and understanding with him.
He stared at Cross's hand on his chest as it slowly moved lower to his stomach. He wanted to panic but sighed in relief when Cross halted his hand.
'Damn,' Andre thought.
Cross was starting to make him imagine things that would never happen. He shook his head at himself. Cross would kill him if he ever discovered the thoughts in his head.
Allow a watchdog to touch him? No freaking way.
And, by the way, Andre wants nothing to do with the mafia.
Cross's soft yawn drew his attention back to his face. Andre watched as Cross slowly fluttered those silver eyes open.
He observed as a look of confusion passed Cross's eyes before realization dawned on him.
Cross slowly rolled away from Andre, sitting up on the bed.
Andre sensed his discomfort and realized that Cross was feeling vulnerable and shy because he thought he was about to get mocked for last night.
"Damn..." Andre sat up and stretched his hands above his head, flexing the arm that Cross had laid on, "What are you made of? Brick?" Andre questioned as he turned to stare at Cross.
He saw that Cross was already staring at him, eyes unblinking and face unreadable. He saw something akin to guilt flash through Cross's eyes, and that's when he realized that he had a plaster on his forehead.
Cross had thrown an alarm clock at him before the storm happened.
He sighed, "Finally, I can feel my arm." He muttered and got out of bed.
"Good morning, boss," Andre greeted as he pulled his shirt over his head and headed towards the bathroom.
Cross seemed to find himself unable to look away from Andre. He felt like a cold bucket of water was being dumped over his head as he heard Andre's withdrawn greeting.
He sensed that this was going to be a new version of Andre he would be seeing from then on. But, his mind went back to last night, during the storm; the version of Andre he saw wasn't bad at all; in fact, he wanted that version to be present with him every time.
He felt safe with that version of Andre, like he could be himself with him.
But that wasn't possible, Andre would rather shoot himself than be that way with him. He could feel that Andre hated him and had only helped him last night because it was the only right thing to do.
He almost kissed Andre last night.
Maybe it was the storm, or Andre's touch, or both. But he suddenly needed to kiss Andre. And, when he leaned in to kiss Andre, he felt Andre stiffen, causing him to abort the plan and simply sleep.
How would Andre have reacted? Getting kissed by a guy who just cursed you out and even threw a fucking alarm click at you.
He would have been mad, extremely mad. That was why Cross chose not to.
Like Andre said: learn when to back down.
He slowly got out of bed and went to knock on the bathroom door.
In the next second, Andre opened the door with a towel around his waist and a toothbrush in his mouth.
He saw Cross standing quietly in front of the door and stepped aside for him to walk through. The bathroom was large enough for them to mind their business.
He shut the door as Cross entered and returned to continue brushing his teeth in the large sink.
From his side eye, he saw Cross slowly preparing to brush his teeth.
He ignored him.
Since Cross hadn't spoken to him, it meant he didn't want to be spoken to, so he respected that.
However, as Cross simply held his toothbrush in his hand and kept staring at Andre, Andre had no choice but to speak.
"What?" He raised a brow as he rinsed his mouth and toothbrush in the running water.
Cody turned away from the mirror so he could stare directly at Andre.
"About last night," He started.
Andre frowned in confusion, "Huh? Last night? What happened last night?" He questioned.
Cross frowned, "Yes... the storm," he reminded, surprised that Andre was acting like he had forgotten so soon.
"Ahh, right, the storm," Andre snapped his fingers, placing his toothbrush down, "I'll tell you a secret." He said and stepped closer to Cross, lowering his face to his ear.
Cross held his hand on the sink, clenching his fists as he felt Andre's breath brush against the shell of his ear.
"You see, I have this storm effect where I forget everything in the morning after a storm," Andre whispered and stepped away.
"Really?" Cross asked, suddenly feeling disappointed.
So, Andre had forgotten about those fragile moments? Those whispers? Those touches? And, those barely mingled breaths?
Cross felt like he had been ripped off of something dear to him.
"Really, really, boss," Andre said, heading toward the shower.
"So..." Cross held Andre's arm, pulling him back to stand in front of him.
"So? Do you want to watch me shower, boss?" Andre couldn't help but tease Cross.
"No. But... did you forget how you got this?" Cross's gentle finger touched Andre's small bruise on his forehead.
"Ouch!" Andre removed Cross's hand from his face.
"That you threw an alarm clock at me? Hell no, that was before the storm, Boss. It doesn't count as things I forgot," Andre replied, locking his gaze with Cross.
"Why are you asking? Is there something I should know?" Andre asked.
Cross looked away, shaking his head, "No. I'll excuse you." He said and left the bathroom.
Shrugging, Andre went ahead with his shower.
After a while, they were both heading to the restaurant to eat.
"I'm not supposed to be going to the hall with you," Cross said.
Andre glanced at him. This was the first thing Cross had said since their discussion in the bathroom.
"Why? Not hungry?" Andre asked.
"I'm used to having my breakfast in bed, served hot," Cross scoffed.
Andre chuckled; sassy Cross was back.
"I'm sorry, boss, I'm not your mother nor am I your boyfriend. My job description doesn't cover serving you food, my dear boss," Andre replied as he pushed the tall door to the dining hall open.
Cross paused for a second behind Andre and stared at him, "Fine..." He muttered.
"What?" Andre turned and asked.
"Nothing," Cross shrugged.
"If you want that, you can simply call your cousin or your sister. They can arrange that for you. But if you think I'm doing it, you're dreaming," Andre said and walked into the hall.
Cross took a deep breath and followed him in. Could he really pursue his initial plan?
Was it worth it?
Maybe he shouldn't... or, maybe he should.
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