This Assassin Thinks I Can’t See Him, But He Always Undresses In Front of Me He hears me swallowing repeatedly. Assassin: “Are you hungry?” I nod: “Mm-hmm.” He came back reeking of blood. Although the scent was faint, I could still smell it. The assassin took off his dirty clothes and headed towards the bathroom. “I’ll make dinner after I shower.” I feigned shyness and asked coyly: “Want to shower together?” His body suddenly froze. He turned back to look at me. I quickly added, “I can’t see anything anyway.” “But I can!” he snapped, then turned and entered the bathroom.
My name is Olivia. I’m an orphan. Three years ago, I was adopted by a wealthy family, but none of their children liked me. Especially the youngest son. He pushed me down the stairs when I wasn’t paying attention. I hit my head on the steps, causing me to go blind. Actually, I’m not completely blind. My vision is just very blurry. To stay alive, I insisted I couldn’t see anything at all. After I was discharged from the hospital, the family sent me to a villa in the suburbs along with a huge sum of money, leaving me to fend for myself. I couldn’t be bothered to seek revenge. I lived comfortably every day, ordering takeout and opening packages. But two weeks ago, on a night I’ll never forget, an assassin suddenly broke in. He held a knife to my throat, ready to kill me, but when he realized I was blind, he hesitated. He only threatened me not to tell anyone. And so began our strange cohabitation. His whereabouts were unpredictable. Occasionally he would help cook meals. But a few meals were far from enough to satisfy me. As the landlord, I had to show him who’s boss. That night, I crouched outside the bathroom door, imagining his tantalizing body. The water stopped. The assassin walked out wrapped in a towel. Steam billowed around him. Even with my blurry vision, I could make out his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Tsk tsk, he smelled so good up close. The assassin saw me. “What are you doing here?” I faced his chest and cleared my throat. “Let me feel those abs, big boy.” He: “…”
The assassin stopped drying his hair and was silent for a long time before speaking. “Do you have a death wish?” “I’ll die happy after I feel them.” “…” He ignored me and turned to leave. I hurried to follow him, forgetting to grab my cane. My leg hit the corner of a table. With a thud, I fell to the ground. “Ow, it hurts…” I propped myself up, tears welling in my eyes from the pain. The assassin sighed and crouched down in front of me. Water droplets from his hair dripped onto my thigh. His face was very close to mine, but I still couldn’t see clearly. Judging by the outline, he was probably handsome. Come closer! Just a little closer and I’ll be able to see your face! I didn’t dare look too intently, afraid he would notice. The assassin looked down at my knee, his warm fingers brushing over the wound. “You’re bleeding. Do you have any iodine?” I answered irrelevantly, “I want to feel your abs.” “…” He was speechless again. I’m not joking, this little injury is nothing. I used to get hurt all the time. I had to act fast before he got dressed. The assassin sighed resignedly: “You just want to feel them?” “Actually, I want to kiss them too.” “…Don’t push your luck!”
Just when I thought he would angrily walk away, he grabbed my wrist and placed my hand on his waist. Me: “?” The assassin turned his face away and spoke with difficulty. “Go ahead.” I groped wildly, afraid he would change his mind. The skin under my hands was smooth yet firm, his muscles clearly defined. When I touched his side, the assassin’s body trembled slightly. His voice was hoarse: “Slower, it tickles.” I nearly got a nosebleed.
I was just feeling his abs… My movements slowed down. He also stopped trembling. I’m not sure if it was because I moved too vigorously or if the towel had a mind of its own. It fell to the floor. The assassin quickly tossed the towel from his shoulders onto my face, then hurriedly picked up the fallen towel. I pretended not to know what happened. “What’s wrong?” He replied somewhat awkwardly: “Nothing…” Hehehe. What an unexpected bonus.
When I woke up in the morning, the assassin had already left. I took out the phone I had hidden and held it close to my face, preparing to order some takeout. Suddenly, the front door of the villa was violently kicked open. Then someone shouted— “Olivia, get out here!” I’d recognize that grating voice anywhere, even if it was autotuned. Tyler. The bastard who pushed me down the stairs. I tapped my cane and slowly walked out. When he saw me, he started mocking me like he used to: “Well well, still alive I see.” “I thought you’d kicked the bucket by now. I even brought a hearse.” I couldn’t be bothered to respond. “What are you doing here?” Tyler rushed up to me, shoved me to the ground, and kicked away my cane. “This is my house, I’ll come whenever I want!” Tyler strutted around the living room with his hands in his pockets. “I’m taking back this house. You have until the end of the day to get out.” “Don’t bother cleaning, I’m going to throw out everything you’ve touched anyway.” I kept my eyes lowered to the floor and said: “Dad and Mom gave me this house. You have no right to take it back.” Tyler snorted coldly and spat on the floor, yelling: “They’re MY parents! You’re nothing but trash. Get the hell out of here!” With that, he stormed out without looking back.
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