Falling in love is a complete disaster. You lose your enjoyment of the small things in life and start chasing a bigger ideal. An ideal that can only be fulfilled by another person. You relinquish your happiness and sanity in exchange for somebody el...
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♫ | Tame Impala - Borderline
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It was Saturday.
Lyra Wakefield might've been impulsive, but she was not an idiot. She didn't want to work for a man she knew nothing about; no matter how nice he may seem, there was still a possibility that he was a psychopath who lured young women into his home and sold their organs to the black market.
So, she did what any reasonable person would do: stalked him.
Two hours later and eight years deep in the Facebook page of the middle school he attended, looking at old photos of him playing basketball with his classmates, she started to feel a bit creepy. "Alright, this is getting excessive, I know enough about him now," She thought, glancing at the paper she took notes on.
Lucas Laflèche was born in Paris on July 3rd, 2000. He graduated from Stanford in 2020, with an associate's degree in business. She could not find any information on his father, but his mother, Amélie Beaulieu, inherited an almost century-old wine company, and owned many bars across the world. She died in 2018, one year after his youngest brother, Jamie, was born. Lyra guessed that he inherited the company after her death, which would explain how he was so rich.
"So far, the evidence gathered does not support the claim that he will murder me and sell my organs," she mused, folding up the paper and stuffing it in a random cup holder in her car, before checking the time. 3:05 PM. They had agreed to start the lessons at 4:00 PM, two hours a day for now.
For once, she took her own car to his house, even though he insisted on giving her a ride. She loved her car; a white Jeep Wrangler. It might've been 'basic', but she didn't care, it was spacious and perfect for her. "Plus, I don't know if I could ever handle another eerily silent, music-less car ride with him," she thought, turning up the volume on her radio.
We're on the borderline
Dangerously fine and unforgiven
Possibly a sign
I'm gonna have the strangest night on Sunday...
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Lyra was sitting in front of a little boy, who wore a hearing aid and an adorable smile on his face.
"You know the alphabet, right?" she asked, pointing at the alphabet poster on his bedroom wall. Jamie looked at the poster and nodded, proficiently saying every letter out loud. "Great job! Now, each of those letters have a sign for them. Try to copy what I'm doing with my hand, alright?"
Leaning back further so he could see her hand, she folded her four fingers down, leaving her thumb up. "A." She lifted her fingers back up, this time folding her thumb in her palm. "B." She curved her fingers and thumb into a semi-circle. "C." Pointing her index upwards, she touched the rest of her fingers to her thumb. "D... No, not like that, it's like this."
