Hey

Alexis was placing the cooled cinnamon rolls into the display when she heard the ring of the door chimes. She took a quick glance towards the door, where she found a familiar head of dark brown messy hair. She immediately looked away, before he could catch her stare. Shit, she thought. Shit!

He walked towards the counter. With each step, her heart pounded faster and faster. Of course, there was no line at the moment — no extra time she could use to avoid him. She felt sick to the stomach. Stop, she tried to tell herself. It’s just…him. Be normal. Pretend it’s nothing — nothing. He doesn’t matter to you…anymore.

“Hey,” he said.

She pretended to be deep in focus, while placing down the remaining cinnamon rolls. She slowly looked up. “Hey.” She swallowed, her mouth drier than Death Valley. “How can I help you.” It was supposed to be a question, but it came out more like a command.

He smiled at her, white teeth and all. Inside, she screamed, no, don’t smile at me. “I’ll take one of those cinnamon rolls,” he replied. She place the tray with the remaining cinnamon rolls aside, and reach for one in the dessert display. “No,” he said, and she stopped. He pointed to her right — where the tray was. “One from the tray, a fresh one.”

Trying to make it hard for me, huh? She thought. He grinned back at her, as if reading her mind telepathically. She grabbed a cinnamon roll from the tray and place it on a plate. “Anything else?” She asked.

Please say no, she begged in her mind.

“Yes,” he said. “You.” He said with with his dark eyes locked on to hers, and a smirk on his lips. He looked so irresistibly attractive, and she hated herself for thinking so.

“You lost that opportunity the moment you led me on and never returned.” Her voice was filled with bitterness.

His face fell flat. “I had to take care of a few things.”

“Yeah, well, while you did that, I lost interest,” she pushed the plate to him, typing the amount into the register. “Go find another girl to toy around with, and leave me alone, will you.” She sighed. “A dollar-fifty.”

He handed her a five-dollar bill. “I don’t want another girl, I want you.”

Alexis entered it into the register and it clicked open. She started to count the change. “Maybe, you should’ve got your priorities straight then. Because it sure didn’t seem like that to me. It sounds to me like I was the second option to the other things you needed to ‘take care of’.”

“You’re hardly being fair, Alex,” he frowned.

She handed him the change, a hard look on her eyes. “I’m only protecting myself from getting hurt. I’ve dealt you guys like you before, Zach, and I don’t want to ever have to again. I’m sorry it has to be like this. You almost seemed like a nice guy.”

“Alex.” Hurt crossed his face. She ignored him, and closed the register. “Alex. Alexis. Alex.” She continued to avoid his eyes. “Listen to me for a second here. Let me explain.”

She held up a hand. “No,” she said. “‘Let me explain’ is a phrase only liars use. I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone, I have work to do.”

“Okay, I’ll rephrase it then,” he proclaimed. “Alex, my sister died and I couldn’t leave my own room for two weeks because my manic-depressive symptoms relapse. I’m sorry you weren’t top priority, but I was seriously contemplating killing myself, and I think my health was more important at the time.” He exhaled loudly. “Okay? Is that okay? Better?”

“I—” She was lost for words. Suddenly, she felt like a complete bitch. “Your sister died? I — God, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t know. I—”

“Forget it,” he shook his head. “You didn’t know.” He bite his lower lip. “You know. You know, the only reason I recovered so quickly was because of you. That’s why I came here. I had so many thoughts of taking my father’s straight razor and slitting my wrists, or throwing myself out a window — but then my mind kept coming to you — that girl I met in a bakery, who pretty eyes and a terrible sense of humor. The girl who made me spat out my coffee because I was laughing too hard. I thought, if you had accepted me, maybe everyone else can. Maybe I can start to accept myself, too. You know?”

Alexis hesitated. She had known none of this, and now here he was, telling her his innermost thoughts. His sister died. He wanted to kill himself. He was saying she was the reason he kept living. Her.

She had not know he had a disorder, she had thought he was normal. Just a guy. A guy with a nice smile, and was too lazy to fix his own hair upon waking up. He carried so much confidence, you would not think twice whether he had any insecurities or not. But he did. Similar to any other human — her — he did.

“I don’t,” she swallowed. Her voice was quiet. “I don’t deserve you, Zach.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a nervous laugh. “I just poured myself out to you, and you’re going reject me with that excuse. We’re not perfect, Alex. No one is. Just give me a chance here.”

She glanced around for a moment. Her manager still had not came back from restocking on groceries, and Jane, her coworker, was in the back, making french bread for their lunch menu. No one had noticed her conversation with Zach. Not even the customers — the very few that were in there that early in the morning — had noticed. They were simply absorbed in either reading the newspaper or tapping angrily at their smartphones.

“Tell you what,” she said, lowering her voice. “We can talk when I’m off at one, okay?”

He did not look convinced, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you here?”

“Outside,” Alexis said. “Just wait outside.”

“It’s a plan.”
Zach left with the plate in his hand. Within moments, the door closed with the chimes ringing in response. She let out a sigh. Five hours to go…

So Stupid

Beads of sweat dripped down his face. She damped another towel and placed it on his forehead. The tense muscles in his face immediately relaxed. Roselyn sighed. “Stupid bastard,” she said as she stood up, pushing down the wrinkles in her shirt. “No one told you to take the blade for me.”

His eyebrows furrowed, as if heard her. She looked down at him, eyes sad. “I could’ve easily taken that injury. The sword would’ve grazed my side, at the most. But you…” She shook her head. “You just had to jump in front of me, didn’t you?”

Of course, she was responded with silence.

“You probably thought you were protecting me — and yes, technically speaking, you were. You did. You prevented the blade from contacting me. That all is true. But…here’s the thing, Teren,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I never needed protecting. Even if that goddamn sword had got me in the stomach, like it had to…you, I would’ve been able to take it. I’ve had worse injuries before. It would’ve been just another scar on my body.” She paused. Why? She didn’t know. It was like part of her expected him to awaken and disagree with her words.

“You — you’re different, Teren. You’ve never been hurt more than maybe a small scratch. A broken finger. You’ve never been…” Her throat tightened. “Stabbed.”

She frowned at him — at his unconscious body. Dying body. His hair was wet with sweat and plastered to his head. His skin was as white as paper, and clothes of the same color. And the bandages…the bandages that were wrapped around his waist, had splotches of blood seeping through it. Roselyn made a note in her head to change his bandages soon.

“They said you may live,” she continued. But they said you might die, too, she added darkly in her head. “It’ll take a while for you to heal fully, but they think you’ll push through.” His lips twitched.

“I hope—” She stopped herself. “I’m not an optimist, Teren. You should know that by now. I have my doubts, yes. However…if anyone deserves to live, it’s you. Teren. It’s my fault you’re like this — partially your’s, too — but it’s more so mine. I should’ve known you do something as…stupid as this. I should’ve been more prepared. I’ll take that fault upon myself; along with everything else I’ve done.”

She exhaled loudly. “I won’t tell you that you’ll get better. I won’t lie to you. No one knows what’ll happen, but yourself, Teren. So, do me a favor, will you, and decide quickly. I don’t care if it’s death you choose. As long as you do it soon. Because…” She lowered her voice. “Because I can’t stand to see you in any more pain that you already are. Make it easier for yourself, okay, and do it as quick as you can. Make it fast.”

She stared at him for only a second longer.
“That’s all I needed to say to you,” she finished. She then turned away and left the room.

Space

He smelled like soap and fresh mint. It was great. And she hated herself for thinking so — for loving the scent that he gave off. She drew back, glancing at him with an annoyed expression, as he had been leaning over her shoulder. “Give me some space, will you?” She snapped. “I can practically smell your breath from here, and it reeks like a dog’s.”

Lies. His breath carried the same aroma of the caramel candy he had in his mouth. And that too, was heavenly. Goddamn it.

“Does it?” He smiled. He didn’t move. “If I do this, does it make it worse?” He moved in closer and breathed in her face. Gods, did he smell good. She had to use every ounce of her self-control not to pull him in and kiss him right then and there.

She closed her eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Why?” He asked. He leaned in closer, closer. Now it wasn’t just mint and soap — it was mint, soap, and caramel. It was odd how well the scents smelled together. His face was only inches from her. She clenched her jaw tightly, lips in a line. “Do you not like the smell of caramel, Roselyn?” His hot breath kissed her face.

She gave him a brittle smile. “I hate caramel.”

She loved it — she loved it a lot. The sweetness of it, mixed with just a hint of sea salt. It’s chewy, soft texture that melted in your mouth. It’s fragrance…

He moved back, behind her, with a smirk. “Odd,” he said in a low voice. Thinking. “I had always taken you for someone who loves sweets. Perhaps, I was wrong.”

No, he was very much right.

“Perhaps you were.” She exhaled the breath that had been caught in her chest. His eyes flashed amusement at her. She wanted to punch him. She wanted to kiss him.

She stood up abruptly. She needed to go — get some fresh air. Get away from him. Just for a little bit, if anything at all. For if she stayed with him a second longer, she was afraid what she would do.

“We’re done for the day,” she told him. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Kale tilted his head, his dark hair falling to the side of his forehead and over his brows. Even that small movement was attractive to her. “That wasn’t a very long session. Weren’t we going to go over other healing techniques?”

“We’ve done enough for today,” she lied. They had barely done anything today. “Unless you want Sorren to teach you it today. I’m sure he’d be willing to.”

He shook his head, taking a few steps towards her. Her muscles tensed. “No, I can wait. Sorren’s not a bad teacher, but I think I understand you better…” Another steps closer. She couldn’t move her feet. Kale arched a brow. “What’s wrong, Roselyn? Are you feeling okay?” Feeling okay? She wanted to laugh. She felt sick to the stomach. “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Really.”

It was to convince herself more than him. However, it didn’t work for her, and it surely didn’t for him, either — as he smiled at her with a face that told her he knew what she was thinking. Probably even more so, than she did herself.

“Roselyn,” he said slowly. He took two steps forward, barely a foot away. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“‘Afraid of you’,” she repeated with a small laugh. “No, of course not! I just…I’m just feeling a little off today. Nothing — ah — nothing to be worried about.”

“Oh, yeah?” He gave her a wide smile. “I guess I should let you go then, huh? I’d hate to make you suffer.”

You already are.

“Thank you,” she said. She turned away, about to start walking towards the door, when he caught her arm. She looked back at him with her eyes widened for a quick moment.

“I’ll come with you,” he said, his voice low; rumbling in his throat.

She swallowed, “Sure.”

He released her, but she could still feel the heat and pressure of his fingers on her arm. It burned like fire. She walked out the door, feeling as stiff as a wooden plank. And he followed behind her. She could feel his gaze burning on her back.

They headed down the hall, wordlessly. She didn’t dare to speak to him any more, and he seemed to be content with doing the same. When she would glance over at him, however, he would smile. She looked away each time.

Once she reached the room of her apartment door, she felt a sense of relief. Finally, she thought. Finally, she could get some peace.

“We’re here,” she said. A way of saying it was okay — more than okay — for him to leave.

“We are,” he agreed. His face was unusually serious, his dark eyes maybe even with a hint of worriment to them. “Get some rest, okay?”

She nodded. “Will do.”

Roselyn pivoted towards her door and pulled out her key to unlock it. Kale didn’t move away. “Are you waiting for something?” She asked, her back still turned towards him.

“Just for you to get inside safely.”

A laugh bubbled in her throat. “Like anyone is going to attack me as I open my door! I’m the ‘Red Rose’, for the gods’ sake. People don’t even look me in the eyes when I pass by them.”

“Demons may. People may.” His face remained straight. “They aren’t afraid of you, no matter what the gossip says about you. Besides,” he cleared his throat. “I thought you hated that nickname.”

“I do.” She unlocked the door and kicked it open. “I can’t help it if the stupid name catches on. You gotta admit, though,” —she turned to look at his in the face— “it does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? — as annoying as it is.”

“Yes, it does.” It was barely a whisper. His eyes were locked on with her’s, as she held the door open. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping her from falling over. And maybe it was.

He gave her a half-smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. She had never heard her voice sound as small as it did then. “Tomorrow.”

He turned around. She was so very tempted to stop him — to tell him to stay. Even though she would’ve hated to do so. She couldn’t admit her liking for him. She couldn’t do it. He had coaxed her this all time — teased her — flirted with her, as if none of it mattered at all. But it did.

After awhile, it did.

It started to hurt. And she couldn’t do anything about it. With hardly any recognition, her hand flew to his shoulder. It was so light of a touch, she thought he may not notice it at all — yet he turned, surprised.

“Yes?” He said.

She hesitated, slowly bringing her hand down. “Nothing,” she said finally. “It’s nothing.”

“Gods, Evergreen,” he laughed. “You must really be sick. Either that, or you have some kind of crush on me.” There was a jolt in her stomach. Oh, if only he knew how true he was.

He stepped back towards her, she tried to move away but failed and hit her back to the doorway. He pushed a hand to her forehead. “I mean, look at you — you’re flushed pink.”

She said nothing, as she looked down. She refused to make eye-contact with him. He removed his hand, his face replaced with confusion. She knew what he was thinking.

After all, her forehead wasn’t hot, was it?

“Evergreen?” He asked. She didn’t speak. “Roselyn.”

That caught her attention. Her face was heavy as she brought it to his level. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“Not in the slightest.” She gave him a small smile.

“Why lie then?” He thought for a moment, then two, before a spark lit his eyes and a gigantic smirk forming after it. “Don’t tell me you actually like me, Roselyn.”

She didn’t reply.

“Oh gods, it’s true, isn’t it?” His voice rose, as if excited. He was practically beaming at her. “Roselyn, you little—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kale.” She closed the abruptly — right in his face. He said something, muffled through the door, but she ignored it. She’d deal with him later. And hopefully later was a long time away.

 

Melissa

Melissa Daemons laid in the bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling. Her eyes were unfocused, and thoughts jumbled. Next to her, was Lance Grace, who was turned away from her, on his side. She knew he was awake. Though, he breathed in-and-out slowly, and said nothing — as to be asleep — she noticed his fingers twitching at his side, and the small movements of him changing his back’s posture.

“Lance,” she finally decided to said. “Why do you like me? Why do you stay with me?” He said nothing at first, and she was sure he was possibly mad at her. He was ignoring her. Then there was a snuffled laugh, and he turned towards her; a smile on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” He replied. His blonde hair was plastered and messy against the pillow, his honey-colored eyes shining brightly at her.

She frowned. “I’m serious.”

“Well,” he hesitated. Hesitated. Melissa wanted to stop him right then and there, but when he cleared his throat, she closed her mouth and thought to listen. “You’re beautiful; stunning. You’re smart. You’re honest. And you’re a good person. You can’t find many woman like that.” As he said this, his eyes were elsewhere.

Melissa could have disregarded her thoughts, and let his words go without a bother. But she didn’t. “I’m not a good person,” she disagreed.

“Oh, come on, Melissa,” said Lance, a small smile pulling at his face. “You’re a great person. You help hundreds of people every day because of that company you own. People that could have died, are still here — walking, living — because of you.”

She shook her head. “It’s not my company. It’s Alen’s. I took it; it’s not mine. It never was.”

“Forget Alen,” Lance argued. He turned over, his back towards her. The bedsheets shifted with him. “All he’s done is make a fool of himself. He didn’t deserve MION. You did.”

“But he’s my brother,” said Melissa. Her fingers tightened around the silk sheets.

“And Tabitha is my sister,” Lance replied. “But you don’t see me trying to make her happy all the time.”

“You used to.” That, caught his attention. Lance looked back over with a hard glare.

“Times change,” he told her.

“Yes, they do,” she agreed. “That’s why now, I have to start changing. I need to start doing the right thing…not the wrong.” Melissa pulled the sheets off herself and got out of bed. She bent down and started to collect her clothes. Lance sat up, looking confused.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“What is right,” she answered. “I’m giving MION back to Alen.” She pulled on her shirt and then her jeans, buttoning them up.

“What,” exclaim Lance. “You’re insane! Don’t do that, Melissa. He’ll just ruin the company again, just he had been until you took ahold of it.”

“It wasn’t him who ruined the company, Lance. It was me.” She started for the door. As she began to turned the door knob, she glanced back at him, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “And about Tabitha. Tabitha doesn’t need you to be happy anymore. She never did. The only thing that’s changed…was that you realized that.”

Then she closed the door.

I Know

When Alice came into the office, Alen was standing facing the window, his back to her. The sleeves of his white shirt were pushed up to his elbows, revealing his horrible skin that he tried so much to hide. The purpling bruises and harsh rashes that developed over his arms were hard to ignore. They were exposed.

His skin, was exposed.

Alice stepped inside, her heels clicking across the floor. She placed the papers onto Alen’s desk wordlessly.

“Alice,” he said. He was staring down at his arms. “When you see this…this disgusting skin, what do you think?” Alice pursed her lips. She was silent. “Do you think ‘that skin, it’s nauseating…it’s monstrous’, or ‘that poor man with skin of a monster, I wish it wasn’t so!’”

“First of all, I don’t talk like that,” Alice pointed out quietly.

“No,” Alen agreed. He slowly turned around, a wide smile on his face. “Of course you don’t.”

“Then why…?” She closed her mouth, unsure in what to say. Alen laughed. It wasn’t the light laughter Alice had once heard in the past, it was the laugh of a sad, and pained man. A person who is laughing, although he wasn’t happy. It was a bitter laugh.

“I exaggerate, Alice, my dear,” Alen answered. “You should know that by now. It’s what everyone says about me now.” He started to pace around the room, “Did you see that news article the other day? They called me a — and I quote — a ‘spoiled twenty-year-old brat, that is in charge of a unnecessary company that isn’t in need of existing’.”

“You shouldn’t listen to them,” Alice said. “They lie for more views. They…too, exaggerate.”

Alen stopped. “We’re all liars now, are we, Alice? Are you ‘exaggerating’ too?”

“What…no,” she replied, confused. “Alen, why are you being like this?”

He spun around, facing her. He started to laugh crazily. “‘Like this’? What is the definition of ‘like this’, Alice?”

She swallowed. “Alen–?”
“You don’t know, do you?” He snapped. “You don’t know anything, Alice. Nothing! You keep playing around with me — with my heart — but you know nothing. You never knew anything! Why would you lie?” He screamed. “Why would you lie?”

Alen fell to his knees, his hands pressed to his face. He started to sob. “Why would I lie?” He cried through his fingers.

Alice stood in the middle of the room, frozen. She didn’t know what to do; what do say. She frowned. She felt her feet carry herself over to Alen. She bent down and put an arm around him. His body was shaking as he cried.

“Alen,” she apologized. “I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. I didn’t mean to do any of it. I was…stupid.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek.

He glanced up at her from his hands. His eyes were red and irritated. “I was never mad at you, Alice,” he croaked through tears. “I tried to be, but I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Alice whispered, pressing her face next to his. “I know.”

Forest

We walked through the forest, the leaves making crackling sounds as we stepped on them. The sun shone bright in the sky. We still had a few hours of daylight, I noted to myself. We should stop soon — before it gets dark. The smell of pine leaves and fresh rain was in my nostrils. It was pleasant. For being in the current state we were in, anyways.

The trees started to clear away, and there was a bare area with only tree trunks approaching my vision. I quickened my pace, and he matched it behind me. “Let’s stop here for now,” I told him, throwing my bag on a tree trunk. I sat on the ground and slouched against it, stretching out my sore legs.

“Okay,” Tsuya nodded. He sat next to me, leaving barely any space between our shoulders. I scooted my body over an inch or two, trying not to make it too noticeable. I then pulled out a water flask and took in a few sips. The water was almost gone. I’ll have to get some more later.

I glanced over at him, he immediately turned his head away. He was watching me. My fingers tightened around the flask. I will also need to address this problem between us, as well. I can’t just ignore it. No matter, how much I would really like to.

“We should check your injuries,” I spoke up, inching a finger at his waist, where the knife had grazed his skin. He met my eyes for a moment.

“Sure.” Our gaze held for a mere second before I stood up and pulled some bandages and herbal paste from my bag.

I sat back down. He pointed his back towards me, where the injury was. “Uh, your shirt,” I told him. “I can’t–” He pulled it off, the way men usually did — by the collar. I wondered for a moment why males always did it differently than women. Somehow, it made it look more attractive.

He threw his shirt over to the side. I swallowed. “Thanks,” I said quietly. He said nothing, only nodding. The air between us was tight. We’ll have to fix this. Eventually.

I started to peel off the old bandages, that stuck to his skin by the blood. I could feel him wince at some points. It must hurt. I took the paste and spread a dab on my fingers, then I pressed it onto his skin. I could see his muscles tense at this. “It might hurt,” I warned. Of course, he already knew this, from when I applied it a few hours ago. But it’s always good to warn again. Just in case.

The wound was much better than it had been. Luckily, I had taken care of it before it could get any worse. I wrapped it up with new bandage. Tsuya assisted me with this, bringing the roll around his front, and then passing it to me to do the back. “Done,” I finished. “Is there anything else you want me to look at?” I pushed a hair out of my face.

“No,” he said, turning around to face me. He pointed to my stomach. “But you do.”

I shook my head, “I can wait.”

“No, you can’t,” he said. “Please, Sara, just take care of yourself, too, for once. Stop worrying about me.”

“Fine.” I muttered through my teeth. I started to pull up my shirt, revealing my camisole under.

“You should take off your shirt,” he said. His eyes were studying me.

“I can’t just take off my shirt in front of you, Tsuya–”

“No, just leave your camisole on.” I felt my cheeks flush. Way to jump to conclusions, Sara, I said to myself. I was thankful his expression didn’t change. I obeyed and slipped my top shirt off. My camisole was thin, but it was enough material for me to feel comfortable in it. It did show the curves of my body though. I tried to ignore his eyes staring.

I lifted it up enough to show my belly and injury. Then I applied the herb paste, and the bandages. I hadn’t of put any bandages on it before. I felt myself regretting that decision a bit. It was sore, and I flinched every time I had to wrap the bandages around my stomach.

I felt Tsuya’s hands touch mine. “Let me help,” he said. I didn’t try to refuse him. He took it from me and finished the bandages. I could feel his breath tickling the back of my neck. His arms went around me ever so often doing this, I would suck in a breath. I tried not to think too much of it. Tried.

He finished. “Thanks,” I told him, with a half-smile. I pushed the bandages and paste back into my back.

“Sara…” he said with a yearning looking. I tried to stand up. I knew where this was going — nowhere good. His hand stop me. He was grabbing my arm. Somehow, I crumbled back down, and he was embracing me. Maybe my body did it on it’s own. I would never know. He cupped my face, then he kissed me. It was a soft, light kiss. I kissed back. My fingers tangled into his hair and around his neck.

No, no, no, my mind was screaming. But my body didn’t agree. It was saying: yes, yes yes. Finally, I pulled away. I stood up abruptly, wrapping my arms around my chest. “I need to go get water,” I said, grabbing the water flask. I walked away, trying not to look at his face.

His hurt and confused face.

Bedtime

He stood in front of my desk, slightly leaning over, holding one of my famed pictures. He placed it down, then picking up another. All I could see was his back. His black, curling hair to the nape of his neck — messy, as if he just woke up. He had a black t-shirt on, and denim jeans. I took another step into the room, it made a creak in the floor. He put down the picture quickly and turned around. If he had any ounce of surprise in him, it was gone before I noticed it.

“You took quite the time,” Christian said, his voice neutral. He sat on the edge of my desk, tilting his head. Some of his hair fell over his right eye. It didn’t seem to bother him because he made no motion in pushing it back.

“Sorry,” I exhaled. “My parents were finally leaving. You know how they are, they gave me an entire speech on keeping an eye on Justin and having boys in the house while I’m ‘alone’,” I made sure to make the quotations with my fingers.

He only shook his head. “They seem pretty protective.”

“They are,” I agreed. “It’s a pain.” I moved to my bed and sat onto it’s soft sheets. His eyes followed me but he said nothing. My fingers started to squeeze the sheets.

“Your brother?” He suddenly said. I could feel him watching me under his stare.

“What?” I automatically said.

“What — where’s your brother?” He arched a brow.

“Oh, Justin?” I said. “He’s in his room. It’s around his bedtime.” I glanced at the clock on my desk. It was almost 10 o’clock.

“I see,” he replied calmly. His eye flickered past me — around the room. “Good.”

“‘Good’?” I questioned. Christian, I noticed, was acting odd. Ever since I left to say bye to my parents, he’s been like that. He abruptly stood up. I couldn’t help my eyes widen a bit.

“Yes, good,” he repeated. “Then, we won’t be interrupted.” He slowly stepped towards me. His eyes were glancing up and down my body.

I laughed nervously. “Christian, what are you doing?” My fingers gripped the bed sheets tighter. My hands started to get sweating, my cheeks hot. He slide down next to me. His eyes were burning with something I couldn’t read.

“I’m doing what you’ve been wanting me to do.” His voice was thick. He had his lips parted. I never had taken notice of what nice lips he had. I stared at them for a moment before speaking.

“And what is that?” I asked slowly. He started to lean closer. I could feel his hot breath against my face.

“This,” he said, pressing his lips onto mine. I froze and tried to pull away, but his hand was already gripping the back of my neck tightly. I couldn’t. His lips were warm and soft. I tried not to give in, I really did. But eventually, my willpower ended and I started to kiss him back. I regretted it.

And then, I didn’t.

He pulled me closer into his arms. I pressed into him, my arms wrapped around his neck. “We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered. He started to trailed kisses down my neck. I breathed in deeply.

“And that’s exactly why we should.” He started to slip off my shirt. I let him. He pushed me against the bed and brought his kisses down my stomach. My fingers were locked in the hem of his shirt. He started to pulled off his shirt and threw it to the floor. He kissed me again with more force. His hands were in my hair–

Then, the door creaked open.

We both froze. It was Justin. A teddy bear was dancing in his hand, he was dressed in his pajamas. He looked half-awake, but aware enough to register what was going on. His eyes were round marbles. Christian moved off me, and I sat up. I tried to put a smile on my face. “Justin,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

He stared at me for a moment. “I had a nightmare…I wanted to sleep with you,” he said. “But you were–”

I stood up. “I’ll tuck you back in,” I told my brother, leading him out of my room.

“What about–” He started.

“Forget about that,” I snapped. I sighed and soften my voice, “Just…forget it, okay? I was doing…”

“Big girl stuff?” Justin said.

I gave him a grateful smile. “Yes, ‘big girl stuff’. Now go back to bed, kid. Mom and Dad will be back soon.” He nodded and slipped into his room. I quietly shut the door.

I noticed Christian was peeking his head out of my room, as I walked back. “Next time,” I told him. “It would be a good idea to do that when no one else is here.”

“I figured,” he replied.

My Mother

“My mother,” she said. “She never let me do anything. I couldn’t even go outside without her permission.” Her eyes were staring down at her interlaced fingers. He could notice them slightly shaking at the mentioning of her mother. It wasn’t a topic she enjoyed. He knew that much.

“You couldn’t have just asked her?” He asked. She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. She pressed her hands to her forehead and rested her face on them, slightly leaning over.

“No,” she said. “No, I couldn’t.” She brought her face up, her eyes meeting his. He wanted to looked away but didn’t. Eye contact, he was taught, was one of the most important aspects of conversations. “You want to know why?”

He hesitated. Is that something he should really ask? His mind whispered yes. “Why?” He finally said, after a long moment of thought.

“Every time I would ask, she gave me a slap to the face. Right on the cheek — until the skin turned flush and stung.” Her eyes went back down, now to her feet. Even though, her toes were covered by the worn shoes, he could see them wiggle under the fabric. She sighed, “Eventually, I learned not to ask.”

He stayed silent. How could anyone respond to that? He wanted to ask more, but…she looked so pained by talking about her mother. He decided to go the safe route — apologizing. Although, he knew it wasn’t his fault. People were so weird. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice ragged.

She shook her head quietly. “Don’t be. It taught me something.”

“And what was that?” He looked to her face, her lips were curled at the corners. She made a small laughing sound.

“I learned how to not be afraid,” She smiled. She tore her fingers apart, and started at them for a moment before making her way to his shirt. He glanced down at it. There was nothing wrong with it, that he could notice. It was a sky blue shirt with white buttons. She she seemed so intent to looking at it. “Your shirt,” she stared. Her fingers touched the edge of his collar, he drew back. “It has a hole.”

“What do you–” He glanced down at the collar. He was sure there was no such hole. But — after studying it deeply, he saw a tiny tear on it. Probably from a moth, he suspected. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’, is right.” She replied. “Mother always got mad when she saw holes in my clothes.” He brought his focus back to her dark eyes. They were shadowed by her long lashes. The morning sun brightened up her angular features, making her look less solemn. “She would slice my palm for every hole I had, if she found them. I would throw them away when she wasn’t looking.” She paused, her eyes focusing on nothing particular. She was deep in this memory, as if watching it from afar. “I only got cut a few times.”

“‘Only’…” he repeated. “You weren’t scared of her? You know…by the way she treated you. I mean–”

“No,” she stated. Her voice was firm. She watched him with uneasy eyes.

“But–” He started.

“No,” she said again. “I didn’t. She was my mother, I could’ve never feared her.”

Alice

“Alice,” her name was called, by Alen’s urgent voice. He was muffled by the closed door, but it was loud enough for her to understand. He wanted her. She took a breath and turned to face the door. She had been standing against the wall of the doorframe, waiting; for this moment perhaps. She did not know. She opened the door. Alen’s back was to her, he was sitting opposite from his desk, staring out the window. She could only see the top of his dark hair from behind the chair.

She walked inside, her shoes clicking on the tile floor. “Yes?” She asked. She froze. Her breathing stopped for a moment — she had forgotten to add ‘sir’. Alen didn’t seem to notice. She exhaled. He spun his chair around so she could see his face. His blue eyes were striking, as always. They saw right through her.

He tilted his head, raising a brow. “Alice, dear, won’t you come closer?” She was still standing in the middle of the room. She nodded, and stepped closer. Chills pricked at her, as she got closer. It had been days since he had called for her. The last time he had…her cheeks flushed. No. She can’t think of that now. She calmed herself. The pink faded.

“That’s better,” Alen remarked as she stood in front of his desk. He was smirking. He put a hand to his chin, and rested his head on it. He studied her for a moment. Alice’s eyes flickered across the room. “Do you know why I called you?”

Alice shook her head. Her ponytail hit her cheek as she moved her head. “No, sir.”

He beckoned her closer, “Come here. Closer.”

She was now standing in front of him. His eyes were sparkling. He uncrossed his legs and stood up. His eyes were only inches above from her’s. She had always liked his height; not too tall, not too short. His eyes went to her shirt collar, which she noticed was folded wrong. His fingers went to it and started to adjust it. “Alice,” she could feel his warm breath down her neck. “Silly girl, your collar was messed up. You ought to be more careful.” He patted at it, once he finished fixing it.

His eyes went back to hers. She flinched. They were a deep blue that was the color of the ocean. “I’m sorry…sir?” Her voice trailed off. He was leaning closer to her, his lips were pursed. She could almost feel their heat on her skin.

Then he stopped.

His lips started to move but nothing came out. His closed his mouth. He pulled away from her. “I would rather you drop the honorific.” He said quietly. He won’t meet her gaze. She looked at his confused. Was he going to–? “That is all, Alice. Thank you.”

She slowly nodded and went to walk away. As she turned her back, Alen added, “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“My time is never wasted with you, Sir–” She caught herself, “Alen.” Alice replied back. She could almost feel his smiling burning into her back. She closed the door.