Bright Knight: Goddess

Handsome Devil

Dear Readers, 

Meet Him...Our Handsome Devil

Alaine has to pry her eyes open, she is so tired. One lid strains upward reluctantly before the other. She shifts aside the curtain behind the two-seater sofa she slept on last night. It's her new designated sleeping area for the foreseeable future unless something changes.

Her neck is aching from the awkward position she had to curl herself into to fit in the small space and her back and hip are throbbing. She whimpers, rolling onto her back, stretching stiff achy muscles, with joints that crack and pop disturbingly.

The sky is a shadowy gray, which means it must be after five in the morning. It's later than she was expecting to wake up. With all the tiredness in her bones, it's no wonder that she forgot to set the alarm clock last night.

Rising from her torture chamber, she peeks into her small bedroom at the glowing numbers on the bedside clock. 5:31. The numbers taunt her. She would have no time to perform her morning routine which means it would be a shitty day with a two-way commute by bus and train.

Loathe to wake her sister and the sleeping toddler beside her, she tiptoes into the small bedroom. They must be tired. A small smile tugs at her lips at the tight yellow curls appearing over the top of the blanket. That's all that's visible of her four-year-old niece, but it's enough to warm her heart.

Alaine still hasn't gotten over the fact that she has a four-year-old niece, or that her sister is a mother and back in her life after so many years of estrangement. She slinks over to the small closet, chastising herself for wasting time.

***

"You look nice."

6:30. The small white clock sitting on the white vanity in the bathroom warns that she will be cutting it close.

Alaine regards her sister's reflection in the mirror and scoffs. Even after waking from sleep, Delah looks perfect. Her complexion is clear except for the fading bruise on her left cheek and her curly hair is a glowing halo about her classic features.

"You look nice," Alaine counters with a scowl.

She studies her own plain-Jane reflection in the mirror. She's always thought of her looks as very generic. Except maybe her eyes. Those she's been complimented on before, but they seem muted when compared to her sister's brilliant blues.

"I've been here for the past twenty minutes," Alaine says. "And I still look like me and I can't get this to behave." She points to her mass of gently waving hair. "I need to make an impression."

Delah chuckles and comes into the small bathroom, running long fingers through her baby sister's heavy black mane, her expression wistful. "You'll make an impression regardless. You're gorgeous."

Alaine grunts in reply. She's never compared herself to other people. People are different unless you have an identical twin. But it is confounding the stark contrasts between her sister and her. Delah's fair head of hair to her dark. Her blue eyes to Alaine's own gold and green coloured irises. Delah's clear alabaster complexion to her, what? Honey hue? Then there is the height difference. Delah had won the height lottery. Meanwhile, Alaine is scraping somewhere at the bottom of the barrel. They are polar opposites in every sense of the word and it is still hard to believe they were sired by the same people. Switched at birth. One of them had to be.

"And maybe I can do something with this too," Delah offers, running two thumbs over Alaine's overgrown eyebrows.

During the everyday humdrum, her appearance is inconsequential. Her goal is to remain inconspicuous. But today, more is required. By some insane miracle, she has an interview with The Lucas Bright himself. How had that happened? Alaine doesn't know and quite frankly, doesn't care.