Chapter Two

Lars' POV

"Just be normal...act normal...there isn't even anything to freak out about...just play it cool," I instructed myself quietly, having already stalked Dragunov across several downtown streets until we reached the sky-scraping hotel, constructed of nearly translucent blue-green glass as if the hotel was made up of the very afternoon sky itself.

Evening, however, had already set in, coating the busy city in a decadent black satin that shone with all of the surrounding neon signs and lamps, making the downtown nightlife a bright, sparkling gem to behold as I rushed inside the hotel owned by Mishima Zaibatsu and approached the front desk.

I knew I would be recognized by the staff here, men and woman all dressed immaculately despite the late night hour, as I strode confidently across the marble floor to the solid oak desk placed in the center of the grand lobby.

"Yes, Mister Alexandersson. Is there anything I can help you with?" the lady behind the oval-shaped desk asked me, courteously grinning at me from behind her square-framed glasses and tight pony-tail kept off of her shoulders.

"The man that came in here before me...he dropped this outside," I lied creatively, holding up my own wallet so that she would mistake it for Sergei's as I continued my tale, "...can you tell me his room number so I can give it to him?"

"Oh! Of course," the woman seemed a bit surprised before ducking down a bit towards her hidden computer, typing away for a few seconds before lifting her head back up to me, "...Mister Sergei Dragunov is in room 2205."

His room was right down the hall from my own, and I quickly schooled the smirk that wanted to curve my lips at such a realization.

"Thank you; I appreciate your help," I responded to the female worker before hurrying past the desk and towards the rear elevators, their wooden finish trimmed well in a black granite that spanned the walls, highlighted in corners and amongst deep grooves with a brilliant gold.

The elevators doors opened, allowing me to enter the red-carpeted space, and it was only after the doors closed and the lift began to move upwards that I let out the air I had unintentionally been holding.

I remained quiet, not even wanting to voice my racing thoughts aloud as I deftly replaced my wallet in the back pocket of my white pants, anxious beyond words...and perhaps a little terrified.

"...I'm not this bad off before a match..." I said as I rolled my eyes at myself, finding that being able to chuckle lightly at my own situation substantially helped my flip-flopping stomach.

My time for reprieve was short-lived, however, for the elevator chimed my arrival in the next moment, opening the doors and allowing me to stroll down the same beige, dimly illuminated, white-trimmed corridor I would have taken to go to my own room.

My blue eyes hurriedly darted to the silver illuminated numbers on the wall beside the doors, narrowing them down until I saw the one that made my chest tighten and my palms start to sweat inside my red gloves.

"...no going back now...I mean, I could...my door is right there..." I spoke to myself one last time, standing in front of 2205 and merely peering at the painted wood grain before me, flickering my gaze to my right as I saw my own room just down the way, "...no...that is not an option...I'm going through with this. God, why am I so nervous..."

After enough mental berating, I took a deep breath and lifted my fist to knock on the door, shoving my warring thoughts aside as I briefly shifted my weight on my feet, trying to feel more comfortable in my stance on the pliant crimson carpet as I waited.

I licked my lips, deciding to fold my hands behind my back to appear as less threatening as possible, plus it made me stand up straighter, and my eyes snapped to attention the instant I saw the door begin to open.

Sergei Dragunov slowly opened the door, a subtle look of confusion on his handsome, picturesque face, and I immediately felt my mouth go dry as I mindlessly dropped my hands from behind my back to my sides, feeling my better wits leave me and I could not help but draw a blank for a solid moment so I could take all of him in now that we were so close to each other.

The tall, dark-haired male had his brown jacket unbuttoned and opened, his red tie hanging loosely down either side of his broad chest, as he had the first few buttons of his white dress shirt underneath undone, the man clearly having been in the process of getting undressed whence I had knocked on his door.

I had definitely not been prepared to be met with such a carelessly sexy sight, my eyes glazing over a bit despite my fleeting shock, as I drank in even the smallest of details of the quiet, powerful man before me, noticing for the first time that there was also a tiny scar running horizontally across the bridge of his nose.

For some unexplainable reason, all of the scars on his face just made him seem more outrageously handsome to my eyes, made him seem like the danger he was...and it was absolutely willingly that I lost myself in such a revelation.

"...I...I uh...I'm sorry to disturb you like this...but um..." my mouth struggled to voice what my mind was practically screaming at me to say to Dragunov, my cobalt eyes lowering from his beautiful, stoic face for a moment while I tried to gather something pliable to say, "...I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed watching your match today. It was...quite impressive."

I lifted my gaze back up to his features, a gasp nearly escaping me upon seeing Sergei studying me closely with a barely-there smirk on his frozen-rose lips, a thin eyebrow lifting up in as much inquisition as polite amusement of my ramblings, and I found myself practically jittery to hear his response.

One gloved hand still holding onto the door, Sergei let his ice-colored eyes look over either of my shoulders before resting on my face once again, the silent male obviously looking to see if anyone else had accompanied me here, to sniff out any tricks I may have been trying to pull on him.

He would find none here, though.

I just genuinely wanted to see him.

All of it happening at once, a fuller grin curved Sergei's scarred, tempting lips at me, his glowing eyes becoming exponentially warmer as they held my gaze, as he nodded his head at me a few times in understanding and gratitude of my words.

And with that, Sergei began to turn back towards his room, using his hand on the door to close it just as slowly as he had opened it...and I suddenly internally panicked, not yet ready to be apart from him so soon.

"Wait...um...you might want to get your wrist checked out. It looked like you injured it earlier," I just about blurted out to him, Sergei snapping his slightly widened gaze to me from over his shoulder upon hearing my advice and evident observation of him.

"Have a good night, sir," I said with a bow of my blonde, spiky head to him, unable to bear those piercing eyes, that piercing aura of his, for a second longer without risking at least some of my sanity and possibly attempting something that would most likely get me killed by him, and I quickly walked away.

I had to clear my head, I had to contain my rapid heart beat; the rate of my vital signs showing more like I had just been through intense combat and had not only just spoken to a human being.

"...but...damn...what a human being he is...definitely the most gorgeous man I have ever seen...definitely the most intriguing...sexy as hell..." my thoughts made perfect sense even though they formed and reformed at one hundred miles per second, my steps slowing down as I came to my own hotel room door.

I automatically retrieved my entry card from my pocket to unlock the door, my train of thought hitting a solid decision despite their muddled nature, a type of steadfast idea occurring to me to which I easily agreed.

My aquamarine eyes narrowed from behind my angled, blonde bangs as I opened my door, a ghost of a smirk playing across my lips, as I amended that I had to start finding out information about Sergei from the other fighters as soon as possible.