The next few days went by in a blur. With headaches and muscle pain throughout her feverish body, Becky came in and out of consciousness only long enough to use the bathroom, drink some water and take aspirins that had been kindly placed on the night table.
During those times of relative lucidity, she was aware of Kelley or Dorian's presence in her room, Kelley's most of all. She was pretty sure, he had even slept in there one night on the rickety chair by her mattress.
Somebody must have changed her sweaty sheets, at least, a couple of times. She vaguely recalled being carried and placed on a larger bed at one point. When she had woken up later, she was back in her recently refreshed bed.
Peeking under the top sheet, she realized in dismay that she was no longer wearing her original set of pyjamas. In fact, she was wearing a rather long, unfamiliar black t-shirt and nothing else!
Before she could get too upset over the unsettling fact, Becky fell back asleep. Once again, she forgot all her concerns.
***
"Just where do you think you two are going?" Crispin asked in a panic as Kell and Dorian made a break for the back door.
"We're going out for supplies. We're out of aspirin and tissues," Dorian explained, zipping up his knee-high black boots.
"Both of you? Together?" he asked, aghast. "Who's going to look after sleeping beauty while you're out galavanting?"
"Come on, man. I'm sure you can handle it. With any luck, she won't need anything for a while," Kelley said with an impatient frown. "Besides, Dorian and I need some air."
It was the honest truth. They had both been cooped up in the house all week, taking turns looking after their sickly houseguest.
Not that he had minded, really. In fact, he had gotten quite attached to the poor little thing, as sick as she was. There'd been times, during the seemingly unending malady when she had unconsciously cuddled into him, burrowed into his embrace with such... or never mind, he must be losing it. That's why he needed to get away for a little while. To clear his head.
"She better not need anything. For I haven't the time or patience for such matters," Crispin huffed.
"Don't be an ass, Crisp," Dorian lamented. "It's not that hard, really."
"Absolutely not! Not bloody likely!" Crispin scoffed defiantly as his housemates ignored him and clambered out the back door. Not acceptable! He would not play nursemaid. That particular role was not in his nature. She had better not want anything, or she would have to fend for herself!
Slowly gravitating towards the bottom of the stairs, he reluctantly listened for signs of life.
She had been sick long enough, he thought with a frustrated frown. A full week to be exact. She would have to get better soon. He had a mile long list of available lodgings lined up for her.
He held onto the banister, listening. Nothing, not a peep. Perhaps he should just check on her. If she was up, maybe it would be a good time to go over the list with her.
Hesitating, he took a step back and glanced at his reflection in the hallway mirror. Handsome, he thought to himself as he ran his manicured hands over his long dark mane. Too handsome to be locked up here at home, looking after a sickly mundane girl. He adjusted the ruffled cuffs of his black vintage dress shirt and did a little turn. It wasn't his fault that she couldn't appreciate his unique appearance.
Oh, yes, he had noticed the way she flinched in his presence. So what if he wasn't exactly the boy next door? Neither was Dorian or Kell for that matter yet she didn't flinch quite so much with them.
Indeed, he had definitely noticed the way she looked at him the other day at the diner. Before he could even open his mouth to say hello, she'd taken off like a shot! She'd taken one look at him, and run off like he was the angel of death in the flesh!
The heck with her. She could take her prejudices and stuff them for all he cared. Yet, he'd being lying if he said it hadn't stung a little. Why did people, girls like Becky especially, feel the need to fear him? He wasn't a monster!
Neither was he willing to change to please others. That's why she could not stay here. He couldn't handle seeing her flinch every time he walked into the room. That was no way to live.
At the sound of soft footsteps above, he snapped out of his musings and moved quickly out of the way. He hid into the living room and listened. God forbid she want anything. Hopefully, she had just gotten up to use the bathroom. That's it, she would then go back to bed and pass out again.
Moments later, he heard the toilet flush. Now, back to bed with you, he willed.
***
Unable to sleep any longer, Becky flung the sheets off herself and sat up in bed. Her head was pounding, her stomach growling. How much longer until she felt normal again? She was frustrated and angry at herself for feeling so useless and out of sorts.
Getting up, she dizzily made her way towards the bathroom and relieved her bladder. At least, she'd managed to take care of that matter unassisted. Embarrassed, she winced at the thought of how Kelley and Dorian had to look after everything else for her.
Besides being men, they had been basically strangers before this happened. Just thinking about everything they'd had to do for her in her semi-conscious state made her cringe. She had never experienced having men in such close proximity, not to mention in such intimate ways.
Her parents died in a car accident when she was only five. Since then, her granny had raised her. There were aunts and uncles, of course, but they lived all over the country. She had only ever met them a handful of times at the odd family reunion.
Somebody must have had to undress her! She frowned, studying the latest black t-shirt she had on. Whoever it was had obviously seen her naked! How disturbing! Had they all seen her naked? All three of them, even Crispin, the one who hated the very sight of her? Did they take turns gawking at her? Had they taken advantage? Dear God, the thought of being at the mercy of three mostly strange men, caused her to shudder.
She had been nuts to come here in the first place. Yet here she was. Feeling oddly... okay, under the circumstances.
Becky calmed herself, taking a series of deep breaths. Running her hands over herself, she carefully inspected her body for telltale signs of mischief. Not that she knew exactly what she would find or even what such signs might feel like.
Truthfully, she didn't feel as though she had been violated in any particular way, other than in her own twisted imagination. In fact, the entire time she had been out of it, she'd had the feeling of being well looked after. Setting herself at ease, Becky straightened her borrowed shirt.
What she should do, is thank the Goths for looking after her, not accuse them of being perverts. First, though, she needed something to eat. Her belly was making an awful racket.
***
Crispin slowly gravitated towards the staircase, listening for signs of life. She had been in that bathroom an awfully long time. Could she have fainted? God forbid he would have to go in there. He cringed at the memory of when he had accidentally barged in on her the last time. She had screamed as though the world was coming to an end. Well, to be fair, they had both screamed, but that was neither here nor there.
He then heard a distressed sigh. "Oh, shit..." he grumbled.
Reluctantly, he slinked up the steps until he reached the top. There, he paused, staring helplessly at the bathroom door. Should he knock? What then? Should he offer his assistance? Oh, for Pete's sake, he was not made for this! Thus far he'd blissfully eluded the task of looking after her, with the odd exception of placing a glass of water on her night table now and then. After all, he wasn't a complete bastard. Besides, the other two ninnies were quite happy to do step up to the task. Thank you very much!
He heard it again, that same sigh of distress. Oh, for fuck's sake... Steeling himself for whatever he may have to do, he crept forward and prepared to knock. But before his knuckles could make contact with the door, it magically opened, revealing to him the saddest looking creature he had ever set eyes upon.
Becky immediately flinched. She hadn't expected to catch Crispin lurking outside the bathroom door. Oddly, he looked as startled as she. "Crispin..."
"Yes, it seems our destiny to keep meeting like this," he said, dropping his hand to his side.
Looking completely unsure of herself, Becky tugged at her shirt in an effort to keep it from revealing too much thigh, not that it was even remotely possible since the shirt practically covered her to her knees.
"Everything all right then?" he asked, giving her a quick once over before averting his eyes, hoping to get away from her the first chance he got. His mere presence was obviously upsetting her. Oh, yes, he had seen the unmistakable flinch. She hated him. That much was clear.
"Where's Kelley?" she asked, peering over his shoulder.
Of course, she would ask for Kelley. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and shrugged with feigned indifference. Why should the fact that she felt the need to ask for Kell when he was right there in front of her upset him? The fact was it did, and that irked him to no end.
"Kelley's not here," he spat rather indignantly. "Nor is Dorian, for that matter."
"Oh..." she said, visibly shrinking away from him.
"Yes, I'm afraid I'm the only one here. Too bad for both of us, isn't it?" The more she shied away from him, the more it hurt his feelings. Unsettled by the realization that he should even care, he inwardly chastised himself. He refused to let her get to him. Reactively, he retaliated with anger. "Now, if you're done in there, get back to bed," he ordered, pointing in the direction of her room.
She frowned at him. Frankly, she'd had enough of his attitude. Maybe it was the flu giving her a false sense of security, but she was one word away from letting him have it!
"You heard me, dormouse." Crispin snapped his fingers at her. "Off with you!"
"No..." In her head, the word had sounded loud and powerful. In reality, it came out a mere whisper.
"Pardon? What was that, little mouse?" he asked in a rather menacing manner.
To her horror, her stomach decided to speak for her with a most unfortunate but undeniable loud grumble. Then if that wasn't bad enough, Crispin burst into laughter! So much so, he had to bend over to catch his breath.
Mortified, Becky ran past him and dove back into bed, pulling the quilt over her eyes. The heck with him! He could laugh all he wanted. Jackass!
Sadly, though, she was actually quite hungry but way too humiliated to do anything about it.
A little less than a half hour later, Becky was paid a surprise visit from none other than her self-appointed nemesis. Without knocking, Crispin entered her room with who could have imagined it, a steaming bowl of soup on a tray.
"What have you got there?" Becky asked, sitting up in bed. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful and her belly roared to life once again.
Crispin stood at the side of her bed and rolled his eyes at her. She had that all too familiar frown on her face. Could she not show him the least bit of gratitude? He'd gone over and above the call of duty here.
"Chicken soup, just what the doctor ordered," he said, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and placing the tray on her lap.
Becky looked skeptically from him to the bowl of soup. She hesitantly picked up the spoon and spun it around slowly in the yummy smelling substance. What was he up to? This wasn't like him at all.
"Well, go on," he said with a furrowed brow. "I didn't lace it with rat poison or anything."
The thought did cross her mind, but she was so hungry that she would risk it. She gingerly scooped up a spoonful and brought it to her mouth.
"Careful..." He winced, watching her. "It might be too hot."
It was hot, way too hot. So much so that she flinched when the liquid touched her lips, causing her to dribble some down her chin.
"Oh, now see what you've done," he said with an exasperated sigh.
"Sorry..." she said defeatedly. She was a mess. She couldn't even manage to feed herself.
"Never mind," he said in an unexpected gentler tone, taking the spoon from her. "Here, let's just take care of this first." Using the tea towel he'd brought upstairs, he wiped her chin and then proceeded to tuck it into her shirt collar, creating a bib of sorts. "There, now let's just give this a proper stir."
Becky didn't know what to think anymore. Who was this suddenly compassionate Goth, and what had he done with Crispin? She watched as he proceeded to blow into the bowl in an effort to cool its contents.
"It should be just fine now," he said, handing her the spoon.
"Thanks..." she said, taking it from him. Since he didn't seem interested in leaving anytime soon, Becky helped herself. After three hardy spoonfuls of the heavenly stuff, she had to stop and catch her breath. "So good..." she said, sitting back.
"I'll be sure to let Campbell's know how much you like it," he said with a hint of that old familiar mischief in his voice. "Have some more." The girl was obviously still stuffed up. Whatever ailed her still lingered. She wasn't quite right yet, but at least, she'd gotten her appetite back. For a moment, he watched her breathe in and out through her mouth.
One day soon, she would be well enough to leave the House of Goths. For Crispin, that day couldn't come soon enough. As it was, his housemates were getting way too attached to the little imp, and that just wouldn't do. Better to rip the bandage off quickly, isn't that what they say? Perhaps after a few more spoonfuls of soup, he would show her the list of prospective lodgings that he'd procured for her.
"Okay," she said as much to herself as to him. Putting in a real effort, she managed to get through, at least, half of the soup before giving up.
"It's all right. You don't want to overdo it," he said, carefully taking the tray and placing it down on the floor. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" he asked with a sugar-laced voice.
"Better, but not one hundred percent," she said with a shrug.
"Right, well, how about I leave this here with you? You might want to give it another go in a bit."
"That would be great. Thanks, Crispin. That was very kind of you," she said with a wary smile.
Crispin hesitated but then simply gave her a polite nod. "Becky, I have something you might like to look over."
"What's that?"
"I'll go get it. It's in my room," he said, giving her thigh a gentle tap as he got up and left.
Confused but grateful, Becky sat quietly awaiting his return. In the meantime, her mind started to race. She had missed so many classes. She would never be able to catch up on her assignments. How could she have gotten sick? She was never sick, not like this. Just the thought of how pathetically helpless she'd been made her wince. How could things have gotten so... embarrassing?
Enthused and quite pleased with himself, Crispin took his list and returned to Becky's room. With so many options, she would soon be all better and out of their hair, once and for all.
He sat back down on the edge of her bed and proudly presented her with the list. She glanced absently at the sheet of paper on her lap, an odd look on her face.
"What's this?" she asked quietly.
"That is a list of available rentals near the university," he stated with a determined nod. "If and when you're feeling better, you may pick one. Please feel free to move on. Until then, you can have a glance at it and think about which ones you'd like to pursue."
"Oh..." she said with an unexpected sob. No wonder he was being so nice. He just wanted her better so that he could be rid of her. "Thanks..."
What? What was that? He frowned at the unmistakable sound. And that... that quiver on her bottom lip? Oh no no no. This could not be happening. Crispin recoiled at the sight of her misery. "Now see here! Crying will not work on me, young miss. You put that bottom lip back in its place, right this instant! Besides, we've already discussed the matter. Everyone agrees that you cannot stay here."
"It's not that..." she said, wiping away a stray tear.
"Well, what is it then? Dare I ask?" he said, reluctantly relaxing his posture.
She hesitated at first, blinking her eyes at the enigmatic Goth, unsure of how to tell him the truth. Instinctively, Crispin leaned in closer, silently encouraging her to speak.
"They saw me naked," she whispered, almost inaudibly.
"Pardon, did you say..."
"Yes, naked," she repeated a tad louder, turning a bright shade of red.
"What? Who?" he asked, looking around himself.
She tugged the tea towel from her shirt and looked down sheepishly at herself. "Somebody... took my pyjamas off and dressed me in this t-shirt," she whispered, averting her eyes from him.
At that statement, Crispin simply froze. His mind racing with opportunity. Here was something he could definitely use to his advantage. He would use her humility to send her on her way. That was it! Of course, he'd have to tread carefully.
"Yes... well, I suppose I can understand how you'd be upset about that," he said, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing. The expression on her face was priceless. "You see this is just an example of the very thing we discussed at the trial the other day. It just simply wouldn't do for you to remain here. Especially now. You must feel so uncomfortable."
He watched as she nodded in silent acknowledgement, her bottom lip doing that miserable little trembly thing. Not able to stand what that did to his insides, he quickly threw in, "Now, sweetheart, I'm sure it was all purely medicinal in nature. You can rest assured that nothing untoward was done to your person."
"Who?" she asked, not meeting his eyes.
"All I can tell you is that it was definitely not me," he stated confidently. "In fact, I came nowhere near you." Except, of course, for the odd time with a glass of water, but she didn't have to know that.
In the very next moment, the unmistakable sound of Kell and Dorian's return rattled through the old house. "Aw... here come the culprits now," Crispin said with a sigh of relief.
Becky instantly hiked up the quilt around her. Crispin caught her flinch when she heard their voices downstairs. How curious, suddenly it wasn't him that caused her to react thusly. He could hear them now, clambering up the stairs, curious to visit their sickly houseguest.
"I don't want to see them," she squeaked as Crispin stood up.
"Come on now, you don't mean that. They'll be hurt," Crispin said with a sly smile. His plan was working! How opportune a situation! "But, of course, I understand. I'll let them know how you feel." Exiting the room, he caught his concerned housemates just outside her door.
"Hey, how's she doing?" Kell asked, frowning at the unexpected sight of Crispin leaving her room.
"Better... at least physically," Crispin said, blocking the door.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kell asked.
"Move out of the way, Crisp," Dorian said, raising a pierced eyebrow.
"I don't think so," Crispin said, simply crossing his arms and steeling his stance.
"Move or prepare to be moved," Kell growled angrily. "I swear if you've done anything..."
"You see, that's where you're wrong, Kell," Crispin sneered back. "I'm afraid it's you two who have done it this time. So much so that our little Becky refuses to see you at this moment."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Kell said with a baffled frown.
Crispin took a dramatic breath in and out, slowly shaking his head in disapproval. "Come, let's discuss this in your room, Kell."
"Crispin, I don't have time for your shit right now. Just out with it, man!"
"Fine, have it your way." With a resolute sigh, Crispin leaned in and whispered very quietly, "Seems our little houseguest is upset with you both."
"Upset? Why?" Dorian asked, devastated.
"I'm afraid she has taken issue with the fact that one or two of you may have taken an unsolicited peek at her girlie bits while she was unconscious." Crispin barely got the words out before giving into the giggles.
"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Kell scoffed, giving his head a shake. "Is that all this is about?"
"But we had too," Dorian said defensively. "Well, Kell did anyway. It couldn't be avoided, could it?"
"Nevertheless, she does not want to see or speak to either of you lotharios," Crispin said, unsuccessfully stifling his humour.
"This is ridiculous!" Kell shoved Crispin out of the way.
Crispin didn't put up a fight. Instead, he carried on chuckling all the way into his room. When he got there, he couldn't help but fall into his bed, still in fits of laughter. He hadn't laughed this much in years. He would never admit it out loud, but it felt damn good, not very Goth of him, but so what.
When Dorian attempted to follow Kell into Becky's room, Kell turned and frowned at him. "Better let me handle this."
"Yeah, that's a good idea, Kell." Relieved of the uncomfortable task, Dorian ran a hand through his floppy mohawk and left him to it.
Without bothering to knock, Kell opened the door a crack and poked his head into her room. He found her lying in bed with the quilt tucked high under her chin, her eyes downturned, a disapproving pout on her face.
"Hello," he said, entering the room without waiting to be acknowledged. He then sat down at the edge of the bed and noticed the half eaten bowl of soup on the tray. "You had something to eat? Did you get it yourself?" he asked, both curious and relieved. She hadn't eaten much at all this past week. He had started to worry that she might never recover.
She gave her head the tiniest of shakes. "Crispin...."
Kell raised his eyebrows at the news. Well, who would have thought it? He must be up to something. It wasn't like Crispin to be so... selfless. "Are you feeling better?" he asked, attempting to place his hand over her forehead.
Becky flinched away from his hand and met his eyes with a look of mistrust. How dare he act like everything was okay between them? How dare he look so handsome, sitting there in his dark militia inspired Goth gear? "A little bit, yes," she replied, grappling the rolled up piece of paper in her hand.
"What's that you've got there?" Kell asked, curious.
"A list of rooms for rent," she said, handing it to him. "Crispin was nice enough to find them for me."
Ah ha, now that sounded like Crispin, Kell thought, taking the list from her and having a quick glance. He raised an eyebrow at some of the proposed residences. He recognized some of the addresses. Not exactly ideal situations for a girl like Becky. Besides, he and Dorian had come to the conclusion that they would be all right with Becky staying here. The thought of turning the little imp out into the unknown no longer suited him. The fuck with Crispin. This was his house first and foremost. Therefore, the decision was ultimately his to make.
Becky watched him as he read the list. She studied his profile, his chiselled features draped behind a curtain of black hair, fringed with blood-red streaks. His left hand held the list, his right hand was fisted under his chin. After a moment, he frowned and crumpled the piece of paper, shooting it across the room.
"What did do you that for?" she protested, sitting up, attempting to go after the strewn ball of paper.
"Hey... no," he said, snapping out of his thoughts, placing his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her gently but firmly back into bed. "Never mind that now."
"But I need that," she protested weakly. She didn't fight him when he tucked the quilt back around her. "You don't want me here."
"Sh..." he hushed her. "You're not quite ready to go anywhere."
She looked at him, doubt and hope, clashing in her green eyes. Then she frowned and averted her gaze. "What's the matter, love?" he asked, hoping for her to simply tell him what weighed heaviest on her mind. He knew already what it was. Yes, he had undressed her. It was true. He'd had to. He couldn't have just let her wallow in sweaty sheets and pyjamas all week, could he?
When she didn't answer, he felt compelled to fill in the blanks for her. "Crispin informs me that you're upset over the fact that I had to undress you," he said, looking at her face, watching for a reaction.
She nodded and shrugged, looking bereft and miserable. "I'm sorry," he said, chucking her gently under the chin with his index finger. "I had to."
"So, it was you?"
He nodded solemnly.
"Just you?" she asked, meeting his obsidian eyes for a mere moment before looking away while plucking at imaginary lint on the quilt.
"Just me," he said with a soft smile. Dorian had offered to help, but while Kell was grateful for his assistance in every other way, in that respect, he only trusted himself.
"Trust me, love. Nothing bad happened to you while you were unconscious. Nothing inappropriate took place." He smiled fondly at the memory of how incredibly helpless she'd been the entire time while under his care. There had been moments when she'd clung to him so fiercely. Times when she'd burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, trembling with fevered chills. He had never felt so needed, so important to anyone before.
Of course, if he'd been an evil bastard, he could have so easily taken advantage of her. She'd been so out of it and helpless. She wouldn't have even known. The unsettling thought disturbed him to no end.
"Please, believe me when I tell you that it couldn't be avoided. I couldn't just let you lie there bathed in sweat."
She furrowed her brow, blinked a few times then bravely met his gaze. "Thank you, Kelley."
Oh... there it was again, his name, spoken in such a way that melted him through. That husky velvety voice of hers did things to his insides that he would rather not feel at this moment in time.
"I'm so sorry too," she said, reaching out and placing her hand on his forearm.
"Sorry for what exactly?" he asked, giving her an indulgent smile.
"For getting sick. For being such a bother, and now for making you feel bad for looking after me." She sniffed, looking miserable.
"Never mind all that." He placed his left hand over hers. "Just you get better, okay?"
"Yes..." she said wistfully. "I'm so terribly behind in my classes. I'll never catch up."
"Don't worry about your classes now. You're not alone in this malady. Apparently there's been quite the epidemic throughout the university. Even most of the faculty have been taken down by it. I'm sure they'll understand."
"Really?" she asked.
"Oh yeah, even our dear Mr. Findley hasn't been spared."
"Our life drawing instructor?" she said, recalling fondly the first day they'd met. "You're okay, though? I mean, I haven't infected you, have I?"
"No," he said with a sigh of relief. "Been there, done that. In fact, Crispin, Dorian and I had the same thing a couple weeks ago so we're all quite immune now."
"Good," she said, relaxing back into bed, suddenly tired from her recent exertions. "Perhaps I'll doze for a little bit."
"You do that," Kell said as he stood up. "I'll take this out of your way. It's cold now anyway." He took the soup, picked up the balled up list, and turned off the light.
***
Later that night, Kell joined Dorian and Crispin in the living room. For a moment, he looked forward to doing something normal, relaxing with the guys, watching television. It had been a stressful week. He hadn't realized it until now but looking after Becky had been quite the task. He'd been pretty worried about her. There were times when he'd been very close to taking her to the hospital. Buoyed by her apparent return to the living, he finally felt the tension leave his muscles.
He couldn't help but snicker at the latest slasher movie the guys were enthralled in.
"Get out of the way, Kell," Crispin protested. "You're blocking the television."
"Relax," Kell said, claiming his armchair. "What's this you're watching, anything good?"
"The Bloodletting!" Dorian exclaimed excitedly, sitting on the couch with his knees propped up.
"Cool... I've wanted to see this for the longest time."
Ah, the comforts of routine, Kell thought to himself, resting his head back in his chair. As much as they might complain about each other, it was nice to have someone to hang with at the end of the day. Even if it was just to watch low-budget horror movies.
"Well, you're in luck. It's only just started. You haven't missed much," Crispin said, sitting beside Dorian on the opposite end of the couch. "By the way, how's our little dormouse? She still pissed at you for getting a sneak peek of her girlie bits?"
"Get off it," Kell said with a rueful grin, chucking the balled up list at him. The three of them chuckled heartily at the girl's expense.
"Silly little twit." Dorian laughed. "She should be grateful she showed up here when she did. Not on the doorstep of some jock, frat-boy house."
"Amen to that," Kell said, dragging his hands over his face.
"Hey, it's my list," Crispin said, unravelling the crumpled piece of paper.
"Yeah, about that," Kell said with a shake of his head.
"What list?" Dorian asked, reaching up and snatching it from Crispin's hand.
"Hey, I worked hard on that," Crispin frowned.
"Yeah, well, somehow I don't think living above a questionable massage parlour is a good option for Becky. Do you, Dorian?" Kell asked sarcastically.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Dorian said, frowning as he continued to study the list.
"It's at the very bottom of the list," Crispin grumbled guiltily. "Besides, do you realize how hard it is to find spare accommodations at this time? Most places are already taken by now."
"Well then, she'll just have to stay here," Dorian said, chucking the mangled piece of paper back at Crispin. "Those other so-called places you've found aren't very practical either."
"What's wrong with them?" Crispin asked.
"They're halfway across town for starters. How's she supposed to get to class and back?" Kell said with a frown. "Anyway, Dorian and I have decided she should just stay here."
"Oh, you have, have you?" Crispin balked indignantly. "So just like that, my opinion doesn't matter? What happened to the unanimous vote agreement?"
"Of course, your opinion matters," Kell said, matter of factly. "It just doesn't count in this case. I do own the place, remember? That makes it my decision in the end."
"He's right, Crisp. It's his house," Dorian agreed.
"Oh shut it, you!" Crispin said, looking none to happy. "Fine, but just so you two know, I am not in agreement with you. Mark my words, she'll ruin the very fabric of what we've strived to achieve here. Our world will never be the same!"
"What the fuck, Crispin?" Dorian snickered. "Becky's just one small girl. You make her out to something so terrible."
"She'll upset the balance!" Crispin hissed. "You'll see. In fact, she already has. She's got you two wrapped around her little finger."
"Yeah right," Dorian snickered.
"Come on..." Kell bemoaned. Even though, it may actually be true, he wasn't ready to admit to it. If Becky was to remain here, there could be no romantic notions about her. No matter how attached he'd become to her, she would be just another tenant in his house. Like Crispin and Dorian, she would simply be another body renting a room, albeit a prettier one. That aside, henceforth she would get no special treatment. None at all.
"Mark... my... words," Crispin hissed cryptically.
"Shut the fuck up and watch the movie," Dorian said, giving Crispin's leg a kick.***
***
To be continued
House of Goths
Copyright © 2014 by Maria Bernard ISBN: 978-0-9938067-3-5