chapter 026.

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twenty six. the devil is in the mirror.








          Bo slides a plate to Lyra and she smiles thankfully at her position sat at his kitchen counter. She'd watched closely as he took his time to cook food for her. Neither of them understood why he was being so kind to her, but she'd hardly complain.

He had a nagging urge to take care of her— or to protect her. He decides to keep her until he can realise why, he'll make sure Vincent doesn't harm her and that she's cared for.

It's unusual for him to care, being such a stubborn and obviously a careless man. But he does care, without even knowing her.

The food is like Lyra's own personal ascent to heaven, she eats quickly and sloppily under Bo's watchful gaze. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment but if he knew the situation she's sure he'd understand. Hopefully.

"Can I trouble you a little further and use your shower, please Bo?" She inquired and he nods with a small chuckle. She's really fucked, whatever she'd been running from, she'd somehow wandered into Ambrose of all places.

God bless her heart.

"Course darlin' follow me." He beckons her towards the stairs and she follows eagerly after the kind man. Leading her into a room at the very end of the hall, he closes the door behind them. "This is our guest room, you can stay here if you'd like? There's a bathroom through that door and there might be some clothes and shit in the drawers here." His palm claps against the wooden drawers. Not thinking of a good explanation for why there's female clothes, he ends his talk.

"Thank you so so much Bo. I really do appreciate everything you've done for me." Lyra plays with her fingers, feeling awfully guilty for intruding on them. What if they get into trouble — unknowingly harbouring her. Kurt would find a way to drag them away, she's sure of it.

"Anytime, darlin'. I leave ya to shower and whatever, my rooms the door next to yours, don't hes i state to find me if ya need somethin'." He sends her a small wink that makes her cheeks flush once more. His kind nature doesn't go unappreciated as Lyra begins to wonder just what she can do to show gratification and make her stay less of a burden.

Perhaps she could cook for them? She enters the bathroom, closing the door and stripping. Perhaps cooking would only amplify how she misses her boys. The water runs hot— hotter than she'd ever bathed in but she couldn't care less. The water was more than appetising as she steps under it.

Using a little amount of the products available, Lyra scrubs her skin and hair. She cleans the dirt underneath her long, false nails, wondering how her dignity had been left behind but her nails were still in tact.

She cleans her body like she'd gone years without doing so, scrubbing thrice over to remove dirt, sweat, to remove her fear. The water begins to finally run clear and she finds a toothbrush pack in a drawer, gratefully using one and hoping they'd be okay with that.

Her hair smells like Bo — as does her skin she muses. It's not unpleasant although she misses her strawberry scented products. She thinks all is well.

Turning the water off, she steps into a towel she'd found, wiping a patch of the mirror free of condensation to inspect herself. The purple bags under her eyes look lesser than they had before despite getting no rest. A good meal and a shower does wonders for healing the tired soul.

Her long red hair has darker roots beginning to bloom and she frowns at herself, parting her hair down to centre in preparation for it to dry. Moving towards the door, she catches the glimmer of a reflection that isn't hers and spins towards the window in the corner of the room. She sees the blur of a dark figure hiding and stands rigid.

Had she imagined that? Is she going insane? She lets out a shaky exhale and goes back into the guest room, wrapped tightly in her fluffy towel. No was right, the drawers are packed with clothes, some women's, some men's and above all — they're clean.

She feels like crying at how her luck had changed, but refrains. She wears a pair of knee high socks, folding them down to mid calf and finds underwear in her size. Strange, but she'll use it gratefully — it's clean after-all. Also finding a pair skirt, short black and cute, she wears that, glad to realise they're shorts on the inside and incredibly comfy.

She wouldn't look the most fashionable but it hardly matters, she's just trying to survive. A black tank top catches her eye and although it's tight against her, showing her bra more than the ones she'd usually wear would. She is glad to have it on.

Now is the time to be glad she'd had laser hair removal and wasn't growing hair everywhere when she couldn't shave.

Sitting on her bed for only a moment, she inspects. the room. There's news paper articles spread across a desk in the far corner and the room is large and dark, despite the window above the double bed. It's dim in the far end of the room.

It's still a nice room however. She feels blessed to stay there. There's a painting opposite the bed and Lyra's hazy mind doesn't remember the similarities to last time that happened. She doesn't notice the small hole in the portraits eye that leads into Bo's room, she doesn't even realise she's being watched by the confused man.

She simply rolls onto her side and curls up into a ball, eyes lulling shut as she rests. For the first time in what feels like an awfully long time, Lyra Mitchell sleeps.

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