Bound To You

Chapter 40: Little Mess

"Now, now, come down, my dear wife," I heard Omar chuckling as he held my hair high so it won't get dirty.

I glared at him and wanted to smack him but I felt nauseous and leaned on the toilet commot and threw up again.

It was all Omar's fault!

After the terrible ride on the Leviathan, I was feeling so nauseous and wanted to throw up but this stupid pathetic husband of mine wanted to ride in more roller coasters and because I didn't wanted to back away from the challenge, I went on every single roller coaster rides with Omar. That was the worst decision ever!

After riding on those horrible roller coasters, I rushed to washroom to throw up. My stomach felt bloated and I was getting a headache. I was at my limit so here I was throwing up in the girl's washroom while stupid Omar followed me in the girl's washroom to make fun of me.

And I repeat. GIRL'S WASHROOM!

Omar literally had no shame! He just walked in right after I rushed to the washroom to throw up.

Like, seriously, didn't he understand how much freaky it would be if girls saw him in the girl's washroom?

And Omar literally didn't had any dignity!

Holding my stomach once, I threw up again in the commode.

Suddenly, I heard a clicking sound. My head shot up to see what's going on and as I turned my heard to Omar, I saw him holding my hair with his one hand and holding his phone on his another hand. He was aiming his phone at him and taking selfies.

What the freaking hell?!

Was this really the time to selfies?!

"What the heck are you doing, idiot?!" I yelled but soon felt again nauseous and threw up again.

"What?" Omar asked. "I just thought posting my selfies in the girl's washroom would give me a lot of likes in Twitter."

"No! That won't happen! People would think you are crazy-" and I threw up again.

Omar sighed and put his cell phone back to his pocket. He rubbed my back as I threw up more. "My, my, what a lovely way of throwing up . . ."

"Shut the -" I couldn't even finish my sentence as I threw up once more.

I was hating it. Omar just kept holding my hair up and rubbing my back as I threw up everything I ate this morning.

After throwing up, I stood away from the toilet as Omar flush the toilet. I went near the basin and washed my face.

It was good that I didn't wore any makeup or else, things would have turned worse.

Omar leaned on the wall and let me clean my face and fix my hair.

"See, this is why I told you not to push yourself," he said, crossing his arms on his chest. "You are as stubborn as before."

I frown at him and kept quiet. Even if I yelled, it would be meaningless because he would find something else to tease me.

I looked around the washroom and noticed no girls in the washroom. It was strange.

I was throwing up for a about 10 minutes. Somebody should have come to the washroom by now.

"Looking for an audience here?" I heard Omar chuckling.

I sighed.

This guy . . . I didn't even had to say anything. He just read me like an open book.

"Actually, before I came to the washroom, I put the 'wet floor' sign in front of the washroom so that nobody can come to this washroom and we can have our privacy," he stated.

I looked at him in shock. "What?"

"Well, I have to keep my dignity. I don't think I want to be recognized as big ass pervert other than my wife," he said, flatly.

I wanted to argue about it but suddenly I realized something. Omar called me is wife. It wasn't the first time but we have never said this out loud because we didn't had any husband and wife relationship but today, he called me his wife, not only once but three times today.

As much as I hated to live with Omar, I was getting used to him. I didn't even know when but I was liking the way he called me 'his wife.'

I was so busy in my thoughts that I didn't realize when Omar made his way towards me. I simply stood beside the basin wall and was thinking when I felt a warm blow on my neck.

I gasped and jumped out of shock and hit my head on the back of my head on the wall.

I winced in pain and cursed, "You idiot Omar-"

I couldn't finish my sentence as I felt Omar's hands cupping my cheeks. I stood there in shock as I kept looking at Omar. He looked over at my back if the head to see if I was bleeding or not.

I felt my heart began to race as he pulled me closer to him and rubbed my head with his warm hand.

"What an idiot," he scolded as he flipped my hair to see if I got hurt somewhere. "How did you freaked out so much that you hit your head and got hurt?"

Even though he was scolding, this was the first time, I noticed a gentle caring voice behind his scolding.

I pulled away from Omar and smiled. "I didn't got hurt that badly."

Omar sighed in relief. He grabbed my hand and said, "let's go."

I did not even get to protest. Omar took my hand and pulled me out of the washroom and we made our way towards the wonderland.