Despise and Despair

07. HA, he laughed!

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I was rudely awoken by someone landing on the hard floor with a loud THUD. 

Olivia? I hate to break it to you, but that someone was you. Oh, dear me, I just fell out of bed.

How embarrassing.

"Ooft," I groaned, laying flat on my back. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as I rolled over and pushed myself up off the floor. "Stupid dream," I muttered, wiping tears from my cheeks.

I wouldn't say I like those nightmares. Then again, there would be something extremely wrong if I enjoyed nightmares at all. 

The scarred man is still out there somewhere, probably trying to find me.

And that scares me.

I shook my head.

As I rose to my feet, I cast a glance over my shoulder and beheld the sight of Mr Stafford, his eyes closed in slumber and his mouth agape, emitting soft, rhythmic snores.

At least he's having a peaceful sleep.

Oh, what's that?

My eyes caught sight of something on the mat beside it. It was a pair of dirty socks, lying there carelessly. I couldn't help but raise one of my eyebrows in surprise, and a small smirk formed on my lips.

This ought to be fun.

With a smirk still plastered on my face, I walked over to him, knelt, and then picked up his socks.

This will teach him to sleep with his mouth open.

You never know what may crawl in your mouth.

I stood next to him with his socks in my hand.

Gosh, they reek extremely bad.

I found myself fighting an irresistible urge to reach out and touch his divine-like face. My hand trembled as I slowly moved it towards his mouth, intending to stuff the socks that lay in my other hand into it. But before I could carry out my plan, Mr Stafford swiftly raised his hand and knocked the socks out of my grasp with remarkable force.

"Do not even think about it, Ms Anne," He mumbled with his eyes closed and continued snoring.

I quickly walked away from him, pretending I wasn't doing anything. My feet moved towards the door. I heard Mr Stafford say, "Good girl." before I left the room.

Captain Frank caught me off guard. I gasped when I saw him standing in the hallway. "Ah, Ms Anne, Mr Stafford is still sleeping, I presume?" I wanted to say, pretending to sleep, but I nodded. "There is someone who wishes to speak with him, but since Mr Stafford is resting, would you talk to the man?"

Again, I nodded.

This is what assistants do, right?

"Thank you, Ms, please follow me," Frank led me onto the top deck, where I found a man a little bit shorter than Mr Stafford standing on the far side with his back to us. "Sir Peter, I have Mr Stafford's assistant."

Clearing my throat, I said, "Can I help you?"

"A woman?" When Sir Peter turned around, an unwanted fear crept through my veins. Sir Peter had a scar on his left cheek; it started from his left brow and ended at the left corner of his jaw. "This is Ross's assistant?" his lips turned upwards as he broke out in laughter. "This has to be some type of joke, Captain."

Ross? Did he call Mr Stafford by his first name? Who is this man?

"No joke, Sir Peter, this is his s-"