Pure Belleza | ✔️

(45)

Bernie didn't answer. She watched me with her lips parted and a narrow tired stare.

Amalia lightly sighed with amusement. "Me sorprende que no hayas perdido la cabeza. Estas en la presencia de un Lahey."

Bernie answered with a nasally voice. "Aprendí mi lección. Lucas me falló. Pisoteó mi corazón y nunca volveré a amar."

Amalia scoffed. "No seas dramática. Regresa a la cama. Te llamaré cuando esté lista la cena."

While I didn't understand much of their conversation, I did hear Lucas' name.

Bernie wandered off, her feet dragging and her nose sniffling. "She thought I was him?"

"Oh, na," she laughed, shaking her head. "She just took it kind of hard when your brother stopped hanging around. She was a super fan and felt like she needed to stop loving him for my sake. It's ridiculous. There's no bad blood. She just likes to be extra."

"Fair enough," I palmed the lip of the bench and leaned on it. "A fangirl's heart is fragile."

She burst into laughter and I watched, heart clenching. "How poetic. But true. They really can not stand it when their hero lets them down."

She pushed the bowl of chicken to the side and started cleaning up the cutting board with disinfectant and hot water.

"What can I help with?" I asked.

"Um," she pointed at a pile of ingredients. "The onions and garlic need peeling and chopping."

"I can manage that."

She found another board and knife and we stood beside each other, prepping and talking for about ten minutes.

It didn't take long to get it all in a pot where it would simmer and cook for the next hour.

We cleaned up the surfaces and put things away and then I followed Amalia out of the kitchen and down the corridor.

Pictures hung and art hung in the corridor, the wallpaper was dated but it was well hidden behind the personal touches.

Amalia stopped at the second door and tapped on it before she swung it open.

I figured that Bernie must have been in there somewhere. But it was hard to tell because the room was covered in material.

All kinds of material. All sorts of colours, shapes, sizes. It was draped over the desk chair where the sewing machine was. It was covering the bed, the floor and the hanging from the open closet door. Sketches covered the walls of different designs.

"Bernie!" Amalia clipped and the young girl sat up in bed so abrupt and fast that I got a fright.

She just emerged from the mess. I wasn't sure what was bedding and what was project material.

"Are you okay? Need anything?"

Bernie shook her head, wincing as she laid back down. Amalia sighed with amusement and closed the door.

"It's kind of funny that you met her today of all days. This is not an accurate impression of her true self. She's a nutcase to be honest."