Born in Sin [BOOK 1]

Chapter 24

The soft sounds of Tamara snoring away in the corner of the room was enough to put Stephen's mind at ease while he flipped through his novella for the day. It was an okay story so far, your average romance scenario featuring two star struck lovers, both either destined to die or live happily ever after. Eh, what could he say? He was a sucker for shit like this. Plus it helped keep his mind from other things, one such thing being the sleeping beauty who was currently drooling out of the corner of her mouth.

With a heavy sigh, Stephen tossed the book onto the table in front of him, the cover bending slightly under its own weight. That was the last thing he cared about currently however. He had been trying. Really trying. He probably hadn't even worked at something so hard before in his entire life. He turned and stared at Tamara, peaceful in her sleep, curled in a ball in one of the chairs within their small living quarter. It was a lot like a kitchen, a lot like a living room. It all fit snugly together and made you feel at home. It had the stained wood cabinets, a small bowl of oranges on the counter, there was even those throw rugs of assorted colors. You had the TV for the movies and knowing Neo, there was a gaming console of some sort around here. It had the dining table, the rustic wooden chairs with some pillows, assorted rocking chairs altered to act as emergency seating with belts. Home sweet home. The great Linda had it all. Tamara's soft snores droned back into his hearing and he sighed, his fingers pressing against his temples.

This isn't working.

Again his attention went back to Tamara. He'd been trying so hard to keep his attention off of her, to ignore her. It was his fault he was even here to begin with, and it wasn't like he was upset to see her. But that was just it. He loved her, and not in that best friend sort of way. And that was what had made all of this so painfully difficult.

He had always loved her. Even when his brother was alive he was always cursing him for snatching her first. Always saying "damn you Kevin." Or even saying "I just needed more time." It was all in a playful way, even though his brother knew he had been serious, he'd accepted it. He was content. And then his brother had to go and get killed. Stephen wanted to punch himself, or maybe he'd wake Tamara up and make her do it.

He hated the thoughts that swarmed in his head. He didn't feel worthy to try and take his brother's place. How could he even think like that? And yet here he was. He was so confused with himself for a moment of just sitting there, a scowl on his face, he thought he'd explode. He had hardly expected a pair of hands wrap around him.

"If you think too hard, you'll hurt yourself," a voice grumbled sleepily in his ear. It was Tamara, and something about having her so close made his breath catch in his throat.

"Sleep well?" He asked, thanking his Gods for gifting him with the amazing talent to internally freak and play it off cooly on the outside. To her sleep drunken state he appeared laid back and relaxed and that's just how he wanted it.

"I couldn't sleep with you constantly fidgeting and cursing under your breath," she yawned and backed away from him, pushing off of his shoulders with her hands. "And don't you dare try and act like you weren't. I know you too well."

Or maybe he hadn't been playing it off very well.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, instinct wanting him to ask 'what do you mean?' But knowing her, that'd only get him the dog house. Instead he merely turned in his seat, watching her as she draped a black shawl over her shoulders, stumbling around the kitchen as she pulled out the means to make herself some coffee.

"Well?" She called to him. "What were you thinking about?"

"Were you always this nosy? I don't recall pestering you for your thoughts."