CHAPTER THIRTY
FURIOUS
THERE WAS A HUGE RED AND VIOLET bruise on Chanel's face by the time she left her room, to join the other survivors for their meal. The poor lighting of the dinner hall managed to hide her it for a bit, disguising it as what looked like dirt smudged on her clear skin. But if you looked really well, the bruise was definitely noticeable. The swollen cut on her pale lips also made it worse. Chanel did her best to hide it by putting her hair down, but it only made it more suspicious. She could only wish that she had a bottle of her favorite high coverage foundation or a tube of concealer. But since the bombs dropped, she lost the luxuries she once enjoyed. Yes, there were a few makeup items in the Outpost, but none of them were good enough to cover up her bruise.
For once in her life, the ginger was thankful that her sister was a narcissistic prick who only cared about herself. Coco didn't notice even though she looked at Chanel more than once, asking her if she was okay. Gallant must have noticed, but he didn't say anything. In fact, it seemed like he didn't care. The ginger wasn't really surprised.
The only person who seemed to care was Timothy, who kept on glancing at her as the Grays started serving them the unappetizing jelly cubes. Chanel assured him by mouthing a quick "I'm okay", but it didn't seem emough for him. As much as she appreciated his concern, she wished that Timothy would just drop the issue before somebody else notice.
As she grabbed her spoon, Chanel looked around the table again, noticing the vacant seat next to her that Evie sometimes sat in. She wondered if the old woman was sick like her and refused to eat the nutritional cubes that served as their food for the last few months.
"Listen, everyone," Venable tapped her cane on the floor, gaining the attention of everyone in the dinner hall. The ginger clenched her jaw as she reluctantly turned her head to the redhead, her hands balled at her side. "Mr. Langdon has decided to grace us with his presence during this meal. He will be arriving shortly."
As if on cue, Chanel heard the heavy footsteps echo on the empty Outpost as his leather shoes stomped against the floor. She felt herself tense – not out of fear but out of delight as Michael's beautiful face came into view. The quiet murmuring of the residents was hushed as soon as the blond stopped in the middle of the room, eyeing them one by one, as an act of intimidation. However, his gaze softened a bit when it landed on Chanel, his blue eyes lighting up as he eyed her before it slowly became angered. Michael definitely saw the nasty bruise on the side of her space, marring her fair skin. His jaw clenched as he moved precisely and sat on the empty spot next to her. Chanel felt herself tense again when he placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed it before he inched closer to the table, as if nothing had happened. But she knew it did. Michael was staring at her through his peripheral vision, inspecting the intensity of her wounds. The ginger swore she saw another vein jump in his jaw before he turned his attention somewhere else. But his hand lingered on her clothed thigh, caressing it gently.
The ginger could barely focus on her tasteless food as Michael's warmth and unique scent of pine trees and sunshine bombarded her senses. She could only hope that the others were too intimidated to notice her reaction to the man sitting beside her.
An hour later, the meal was finally done. Chanel followed after the others as they retreated to the common room where they talked about what they missed the most about life. The Grays were left cleaning after them as the ginger walked slowly, a few steps behind her sister.
"Ms. Vanderbilt?" Both the ginger and her sister turned around at the same time as they heard the familiar voice of Langdon, who trailed after them, his hands clasped behind his back. Coco got the message that she wasn't wanted when his blue eyes were solely focused on Chanel. "A word, please."
The ginger only nodded her head in response as she glanced at her sister, who only did the same. Chanel quietly walked behind the blond as he led her to his spacious room. Michael quietly opened the door for her, his hand resting on her back as he guided her inside. When the sliding doors were finally closed, his hands immediately went to her face, his movement gentle as he inspected the swollen cut on her wound and the bruise on her cheekbone.
"Who did this to you?" He asked quietly, his voice steady but Chanel could sense the underlying anger in his tone.
"It's nothing, Michael," She dismissed his concern, placing a hand on his cheek as an attempt to lessen his anger. It worked a bit, the blond relaxing visibly when her skin touched his. "I'm fine."
Michael lightly traced the ginger's lower lip, "It's not fine. No one can hurt you and get away with it! I won't let it happen."
"It'll heal, okay?" Chanel assured him as she placed both of her hands on the sides of his face. The blond closed his eyes as his warm fingers lightly traced the bruise on her cheekbones. The ginger winced a bit when he applied a little more pressed, but he quickly caressed the area gently.
"That man did the same to you," Michael informed her, his voice quivering a bit as he recalled the bitter memory, "Then a few weeks later, he killed you. I won't let anyone do that to you ever again."
Chanel's lips curled up into a soft smile, "You are big softie, aren't you, Michael Langdon? And protective too."
"You used to take care of me." The blond tucked a piece of orange hair behind the ginger's ear as he looked into her brown eyes, "You didn't let anyone hurt me. And now, I'm going to do the same to you. I'm going to treat you as my Queen. I'm going to worship you, Adelaine."
Looking up into his icy blue eyes, Chanel's head started to spin. It was like she could feel his emotions all at once. Now that Michael had found her again, she knew that he couldn't stand being away from her. Every second that he spent without her was agonizing and she could almost get a taste of how it was like. Just by touching his skin, it felt like she was being scorched by his raw emotions. The blond looked like the type of man who was incapable of love. But that's where they were wrong, because Michael was the kind who love for a very long time. It was impossible for him to move on, like he did with her. Even if she was dead for a long time now, he still used their Polaroid picture together as his desktop background and he kept a drawing of her in his office.
Chanel was now sure that Michael loved her. But a part of her still yearned to hear it straight from his mouth. She wanted the confirmation before she'll let herself return the feeling again.
"Venable will pay for what she did to you, my love," The blond planted a soft kiss on her forehead lovingly, pulling her out of her thoughts as her heart raced. She'll never get used to the term of endearment he used on her, "She'll regret ever laying a hand on you."
_______________
UNEDITED
CODY FERN IN THE MET GALA WOOH
Anyway our babies are so cute? like wow
thank you so much for all the support <3 it really means a lot to me
anyway, who wants a Marvel fic? I've been dying to post one even before I posted this haha
love bela xx.