My King of Darkness (Maven x OC)

Chapter 23

Lydia

                        "It's not too hot, is it?" Maven asked, as he gently guided my bloodied hands into the water basin.
                       "No,"
                       The red clouds blossomed through the water as I scrubbed. I felt Maven watching me carefully. "How are you doing?" he asked.
                       "Fine,"
                       "I understand if you're a little shaken after your first time," he brushed a lock of hair out of my face, leaving a streak of blood across my temple. Noticing it, he picked up a towel from the dresser in front of us and gently wiped my face with it.
                       I turned to face him. The gentle expression was back to his face, the kindness back to his eyes. I met his closeness with a now familiar feeling of a mix of fear and desire. I smirked, "I feel like we've had this conversation before. No, I'm fine. I enjoyed it. But I wouldn't do it again."
                       Maven winked, "At least I haven't heard that yet."                         
                       I sat down on the bed, drying my hands while Maven took a turn at the basin. My mind turned away from Ben and revenge to other things. Once Maven sat beside me and took the towel from me, I said, "Maven? I...uh...I want to take you home. My home, that is...I want to show you my world."
                      "Really?"
                      I nodded emphatically, "Yes. Tomorrow night. I'll show you my apartment."
                      "What about your family?" he asked, "Lydia, they can't know about us yet."
                       "I know. They'll be asleep. I'll just show you my place," I tried to cover up my disappointment. I'd always imagined bringing my boyfriend home to my parents, watching my mother fawn over him and my father shake his hand, pretend to not like him. That may never happen now.
                      
                       The abandoned streets of Archeon were plastered in shadows as Maven and I stepped out the palace through a servants passage. Most of Maven's body was shrouded in a dark cloak, his face vanished in its hood. I was shocked by how much of a commoner he looked, used to his polished, regal air.
                        I slipped my hand in his and led him through the streets. I pointed out the stores I went to, the school I attended, and where old friends used to live. Maven listened, delighted at first to learn about my life, but his countenance slowly dimmed. He clearly had never seen this half of the city.
                       Maven especially became distant when I turned down a side street into the seedier parts of the city. It was clear he was struggling with his emotions. Compassion, empathy, regret, guilt. These were emotions he was raised not to feel. Elara may have even extracted them from his mind altogether. With her being kept out, it was all hitting him hard.
                        Am I a terrible person for bringing him here? I suddenly wondered. I tugged his hand, to bring him back to us, "My place is just up here."
                       But it didn't help. "You live here?" he breathed.
                       I forced a smile, "Yep, the whole upper level."
                       Our apartment faced a gravel side street. Across the street was the back door and dumpsters of a few shops. Scurrying and crashing leaked out of every shadow. A few windows on both floors were boarded up or sealed with tarp that ballooned and made unearthly sounds in the wind. Our laundry line sagged out of one of the upper windows.
                      My front door was accessed by a metal staircase in the alley alongside the building. As I dug out my key, Maven grabbed my wrist, "Lydia, when...everything is...over, I want your family to come live in the palace with us."
                      I wasn't sure how my father would feel about that, but I just nodded and proceeded to open the door. The moonlight spilled into the dark little kitchen. "So this is the kitchen..." I said.
                     I saw Maven's face contort in pure pity, "It's so..." he forced a smile, "cute."
                     "Really?" I smiled, pretending to not have noticed. He was trying, and that was enough.
                     I pointed to the sill, "See here, me and my cousin grow some of our own food and herbs—and flowers, of course."
                      "Ah, so that's what I smelled,"
                      This was the truth: the smell of rosemary and parsley mixed with the daisies and pansies to cover the scents of the city.
                     I moved into the adjoining living room, where a few chairs, a sofa, and an end table sat. Maven jumped as something brushed up against his leg. "Hey, there," he laughed. The black and white spotted cat wound around his legs, happily.
                    "This is Mr. Darcy," I said.
                    "Mr. Darcy?"
                    "From Pride and Prejudice. He likes you,"
                    Maven followed me down the hall and through a door, trying not to trip on Mr. Darcy. I closed the door behind us, "And this is my room."
                    I turned on the lamp to illuminate the small bed, chest, and sizable bookshelf in a dull, orange glow. "Your room?" Maven echoed, suggestively.
                     "Yep. This is where I hide away from the world. You see my book collection."
                     He surveyed them, "Oh, yeah. You really do have a nice collection."
                     I sat down on the bed, "Not as nice as yours. Mine are all used."
                     "Well...that just means they all have stories behind them...Y'know?" he sat next to me, leaning on one elbow.
                     I laid back and brought one hand to his face, "That is so cheesy."
                     I flipped the hood off of his head so I could run my fingers through his hair. Maven Calore in my bedroom! Fifteen year old me had butterflies. But the present me pulled him into a long, passionate kiss.
                    Before we got any further, my mother's voice called down the hall, "Lydia, are you home?!"
                     We froze. I could feel her eyes hit my closed bedroom door, before we heard her footsteps. I threw Maven off me, and we barely got his hood over his head before the door opened.
                      "Lydia, what are you doing home so—Lydia! A boy in your room!?"
                      "Mother, I'm not a kid anymore," I said between my teeth.
                      "And at this time of night. A respectable woman—"
                      "It's my fault, Ms. Cross," Maven butted in, "I just had to visit Lydia."
                      "And who are you, exactly?"
                      "I'm Ma—Matt. Lydia's boyfriend,"
                     "Boyfriend!?" my mother cried, a smile instantly breaking on her face, "You never told me you had a boyfriend!"
                     Maven stood up, "Yes, well, I should really get going."
                     "Nonsense. Let me make you some tea,"
                      Before we could protest, my mother marched into the kitchen and put on the kettle as if it wasn't almost midnight. Maven and I followed reluctantly. We sat at the kitchen table, my hand nervously clenched in his. As my mother began small-talking with Maven, my father emerged from their room, "What's going on?"
                      "Lydia's boyfriend, Matt, came to visit,"
                      "In the middle of the night? And what boyfriend?"
                      "She thought she could keep it a secret. Come say hello,"