"You and I both know that any girl would kill to be in your position, with me, right now." He smirks, knowing that what he's said is completely and utterly true.
Lea Wilson and River Parker don't mix; they don't like the same things, their lives are...
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River
Roaming most of the ground floor of the house and still not finding my parents, I almost give up the search and go to the wood house. However, there's a weight in my chest which keeps me wandering after them. They were talking about something earlier, something that seemed to be serious by the way they carried their dour expressions. It seems rather out of character for them to hide something from me, so the curiosity is clawing its way further into me.
Curiosity never killed the cat, right?
Chewing at the inside of my mouth in irritation that fifteen minutes have gone by and I still haven't found them, I make my way past people, most of whom I've never met before in my life, and ascend the stairs, starting for my parents' bedroom on the left wing of the house. Knocking three consecutive times, I wait rather impatiently to see whether they're here or not. Despite the distant noise of chatter from downstairs, I can hear low, hurried voices from the other side of the door, confirming my assumptions.
A quick moment later, my father appears in front of me after swinging the door open towards him, his hand is still clutching the doorknob as if it's ready to close it as quick as it opened it. He looks several years above his age, the gloomy circles under his eyes show for the tiredness of running his own business. He's always reminded me that money is sweet, but you won't take it to the grave.
It seems like nowadays he's not listening to his own wisdom.
"River," he speaks, his tone a little surprised.
"What's going on?" I ask, my brows furrowing. My mother steps into my field of vision from behind him, a heavy sigh escapes her straight lips as she eyes me wearingly.
It's weird to see my mother worried, she's the most positive person you can ever meet. Nothing can stress her.
"River," she repeats my dad's words, but only above a whisper, like I've found something out that I shouldn't have known.
"Come in, son. I don't want anyone else hearing." My dad says, honing my concern.
"Hear what?" I glance between them, stepping further forwards as the door envelopes the three of us in this monstrously large room that suddenly feels small.
Quiet.
I've only just realised how hard it is to open my eyes. I haven't had any sleep.
"Mum, dad, what's happening?" My lids easily slide shut for a few seconds too long against the tiredness that burns my eyes.
Mum runs a hand through her hair as she sits down on the loveseat placed at the end of the bed, while dad reaches for his glass of water on a side table and takes a drink. Both are in their own world, both are distant, both look worried.
