Clover

chapter twenty-six: fully clothed

YOU'D be surprised to know that for the majority of her young life, Nevaeh had liked to think of herself as a thoughtful person. Or at least the kind who thought before she acted.

In fact, Nevaeh often took the word thought and abused the fuck out of it.

Now, she knew she was largely unfamiliar with the notion of rationality – in her experience, rationality and thoughtfulness were mutually exclusive. She never claimed to be the perpetrator of intelligent thought.

Nope, just, entirely irrational, neurotic, mentally ill thoughts.

Such as the one currently convincing her that she was doomed to fuck up everything and everyone she loved.

Honestly, in order to paint an accurate picture, we should probably start from the beginning.

After school, Elias had taken her to the Bluebelle while he went and shopped for some clothes for Amaya, insisting that Nevaeh shouldn't have to sacrifice more of her clothes for his mum. Nevaeh hadn't protested; she got to spend more time with Theresa. She busied herself in the back, listening to her drone on about her kids, her grandkids and everything else that had come to mind.

Nevaeh had enjoyed every second of it.

A few hours later, and Elias was back, ready to take Nevaeh to his to watch a movie.

In true, neurotic, anxiety ridden nature, Nevaeh had (in a moderately controlled tone) blurted out her concerns about being alone in the house with Elias. She also explained that she would have to leave at a reasonable time, considering the fact that she had a sneaking feeling her twin would be home, meaning she had to be home too.

In true, considerate, comforting Elias nature, the beautiful boy had reassured her that Cesar and Emery would come back at some point, and they wouldn't do anything Nevaeh wasn't comfortable with.

Funny how current, present time Nevaeh was cursing out Elias' smooth words right now.

Naturally, they had ended up in Elias' house.

Interestingly, the pair were currently situated in his room.

Yeah. Elias Brantley's bedroom.

Upon arrival, Elias had gently informed her that their downstairs TV didn't have Rocky on it. Meaning the only space they could actually sit and watch the stupid movie was in his room.

Nevaeh's reaction to this information was far from ideal.

Frankly, the phrase freaking out would be a gross understatement.

In a last-ditch attempt to distract herself, Nevaeh had focused on the interior design of the place and chose to ignore the anvil sized weight on her shoulders that was the reality that they were alone in his fucking bedroom.

Elias' room was so him, as was his house. It was the ultimate fucking 'bachelor's pad' and it was extremely modern. The whole house was decorated in black, grey and white with their appliances coloured silver and their fucking glasses and plates following the same colourless colour scheme.

Like the Home, it was an open floor plan downstairs, with his kitchen and his living room all connected without any walls. He had a downstairs toilet, a huge fucking garden and three bedrooms upstairs. Two of which (the ones occupied by Cesar and Elias) had ensuites. There was another bathroom up there, but it wasn't really used unless they had a guest staying in the third room.

He had a double bed of course, and his room was a lot more vibrant than Nevaeh was expecting.

Posters stretched across every square inch. A gaming console (she couldn't tell what make from where she was sitting), a huge TV (bigger than the one in the living room of the home) and a desktop with two screens. Nevaeh had initially struggled to grasp how he had that much money at 17, but then she remembered what he did for a living and sobered up very quickly.