❤️In My Blood » Archibald

I

001.|Welcome home, Vienna|

A dull object pokes into the skin of my forearm. I groan as I shake my arm free from the persistent poking.

"Wake up. We are here."

The voice is husky and clearly expresses annoyance, it's an unfamiliar voice.

I peel my eyelids back to see the sight of an angry cab driver staring at me. His dark eyes boring into me ungratefully. I had forgotten I was in a cab.

I furrow my eyebrows as I sit up from the back seat. My eyes shift to the window where a large two-story home comes into view. There's nothing more than a large Mediterranean home with a well-manicured lawn and a 1961 Ferrari California Spider parked on the driveway that parades opulence.

I exit the cab, my eyes glued to the white home as I take in the appearance. It's just as I remembered it last, even it's alluring look doesn't make me enthralled at all.

I turn back to the cab as I hear the trunk slamming shut. The hostile middle-aged man sets down the last of my two suitcases.

"Thank you for your service, sir." I say kindly as I retrieve my wallet from my cross-body Coach purse.

I hand the man the reasonable and due price for his adequate service. He stares at the palm of his hand where the twenty dollar bills lie.

His dour eyes divert to me "For a rich lady you sure don't know how to tip." He scoffs.

He returns to his rightful throne of all cab drivers. The dusty old yellow cab drives away with no exception, leaving me in a puff of car exhaust.

I grip onto both of my suitcases and trot away. I descend the pebbled walkway, the fresh and delightful perfume of the flowers fill my lungs.

Even the pathway is perfection, if I recall, the doorbell is a melody of one of Beethoven's piece.

I wait on the doormat the has "Blaze right in" stitched across it. I shake my head in disapproval at my father's attempt at creating a pun.

As I reach to ring the doorbell, the door swings open revealing a sight for sore eyes.

Ezra Blaze, my father's son, gapes with wide eyes. I grin at him widely, my excitement builds up immensely.

He steps outside, embracing me shortly after. His large muscular arms are wrapped around my small frame tightly. I tapped his back as his hold was just about to suffocate me.

"Can't breathe." I muttered.

Ezra released me, his eyes apologetic for a moment before returning to a bright mood. "You're home, early. I thought you weren't coming back for a few weeks." He says.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I missed New York." I say

"It's home." Ezra smiles.

I grab my suitcases as I begin to move forward but Ezra's tall frame stands in my way.

"Hey, wait. Why don't we go get some ice cream? You just got back and eating ice cream is our tradition whenever we need to catch up." He says.

"Okay, just let me go set down my suitcases and say hi to mom and dad." I respond as I move towards the front door.

Ezra stops me, he grabs my suitcases from my hands and puts them inside beside the doorway. He shuts the door and gives me a smile "There's no time to waste."

I just smile in return despite acknowledging Ezra's rapid behavior.

We went and ate ice cream at What's the scoop? Only the best ice cream parlor in New York.