"Waffles and cigarettes.
Blood and pastries."
▫️▫️▫️▫️
Kent's POV
The sense of waking up from sleep in the early morning hits me before I get the chance to fully peel my eye lids apart. I switch my place and snuggle deeper into the soft pillow and sheets, containing a smile that tightly spreads my lips upwards. A cool wash of serenity flows over my skin with the warm bright rays of sunlight sipping through narrow curtain slits.
It's quiet. Awfully quiet. I push my hands under the pillow and curl them below my head. A sense of conscience of knocks my head, and my hands free themselves to check around the bed. The white sheets around me are soft and cold. Too cold. I frown, knowing well that someone is supposed to occupy that space next to me and pry my eyes open. Sure enough, the bed is utterly empty, except for me.
Panic rattles within me and I take a quick search around the room, hoping she hadn't disappeared within the night and left me behind.
I catch her outside on the balcony, staring gracefully outside and leaning against the rails. My breathing slows in relief and I flop back down on the bed, running a hand through my hair thrice. She's dressed in an oversized button up shirt that ends just below her ass. I study her body posture, her long straight legs, the silky flow of her long black hair, and the way she tilts back her head to sip from the glass in her hand. She raised her hands over her head as she yawns, stretching and pulling the shirt up to give me a quick flash of a full naked ass.
"You're up." She simply points up.
I raise myself from the bed and sit against the headboard. I can't respond, the feeling that this was all real weighs down on my tongue. The idea of her, being with me, taking my virginity, it slaps my face with so much force I surprise myself by staying up for so long.
She's still here. Last night wasn't a dream.
I pause, resisting the blush that crawls on my face with the dark memories of last night, but my fight is all in vain. The heat on my cheeks could be told from over a mile away. Ivy decides to turn and stare at me from over her shoulder because of my lack of response. And I know she can see the red on my face when she tilts her head and quirks an amused smile that makes me feel odd and fuzzy inside.
There's this new soft delicate feel that settles between us. It's light, free, fresh. It fell upon us like a tag, branding us both together, twinning the very core of our hearts and souls. I greedily gulp in a sip of it, hoping I can have more.
"What's that smile for?" Her brow raises, and she spins to looks at me fully, leaning on the rails with her back instead. "Aren't you going to at least say something, Carter?"
I bite my lip and hold her sweet mocking gaze. The aroma of last night remains in the air, tantalizing the both of us. Bringing back the moans from last night, the pleasure of skin on skin and taste of each other on our tongues. I inhale and exhale to control myself, then beckon her with my hand.
"Come."
She reluctantly stares for awhile, then places the wine glass on the rails and curiously steps back into the room. Her long slender fingers slip into mine and I gently tug her body so she climbs on my laps and sits herself where she belongs. That softness between us buzzes even more from our proximity to each other and the feel of our skin touching. I bury my face in the crook of her neck and drink in her scent. The morning blast of yellow light spills into the room, warm, welcoming.
Ivy acclaim neck, coiling her hands softly around it, I blink my eyes open and find my face tangled in the nest of her hair. The thin threads tickle my eye lashes, but I'm unable to bother moving. She made me feel insanely drugged, my veins go weak with her touch and her lips spark a dark intensity in me I never knew existed. I peck her porcelain skin and mumble against the smoothness.
"Thank you." I pull her in closer. "For last night."
There's that smile of hers that I love. The one that seemed as though she was highly amused by a dark joke, but she was trying to hide the unethical tilt of her lips. Her eyes did little to cover up the mirth contained inside her. I pull back and push away the hair scattered all over her skin.
"You might have cheated me." She points out. "You...three times. I came once."
I know of the explosion of red inching unto my face, but I don't bother hiding it. Instead, I mentally groan to myself in embarrassment, slumping the back of my head against the headboard.
"It was my first time." I complain. "According to research, virgins don't last that long their first time. And they're not that...well, they're not that impressive their first time, okay?"
She taps my beetroot cheek, then claws it lightly with her black stiletto nails, as though curious if my soft skin would tear under her. I wince quietly, flinching from the sharp pain.
"You're gonna have to learn how to hold it." Her grey eyes dance across my face. "Pleasure is not meant for one. Sex is to relieve both parties involved."
I bite my lip. "Sorry."
She stares at me for awhile in scrutinization, silent, and it's then that I feel the world - our world - come closely under my eye, seeking its final label. There was a relationship now, a stamp that pin pointed what we were. A real relationship. Not a deal of dead girls and sex toys. This current bond deemed distinct. The only thing truncated was it's verbal affirmation. We both had to say it. We both had to define it out loud and seal it. My mind spins as I contemplate what to say.
The sun drifts slightly above the horizon again. I draw her nearer to my naked chest, shoving away how her bare parts felt against my morning boner and trying to digest the oncoming conversation. I inhale a deep breath of her, and exhale with all my wrecked nerves.
"Who do we tell first?" I politely inquire.
Her brows fall in that confused manner. "Elaborate what you mean?"
I accentuate our bodies tangled together in a sort of love web. "Us. Like our new... relationship status."
Her poker face is back on, but the way her eyes swirl is all I need to comprehend her emotions. There's a spark in there that melts me and jerks my heart beat. Her fingers climb to tug the hair at the back of my head playfully. "I'm reluctant on making anything public. Especially my interest in you."
I frown. "I thought..." I fold my lips in notion. "Why?"
Her auburn lips string short kisses down my neck. "I have a lot of enemies. I wouldn't want you in their spotlight. It could endanger you." She hums. "Let's keep things between us."
I shake my head. "No, Ivy. I told you I'm tired of hiding. I want everyone to acknowledge the real me. I don't want things to be just between us. Besides, if I'm going to be your boyfriend then I'm going to have to protect you from these people trying to hurt you."
She blinks. That slow cat like gesture that unnerves anyone it's directed at. I'm too engrossed in how perfectly her frame fits on mine to care though, so I grapple the gaze and glare at it, projecting how serious I am about this. The gray hues in her eyes.mould to a lighter shade. I catch the ends of her ears turn a suffocating red. I demur quickly, realizing I'd never seen her blush. And curiously, the red colour only dusted the tips of her ears. My mouth parts as I watch the colour quickly dissipate. Her tongue rolls out the one thing she'd caught from what I uttered.
"Boyfriend." She tastes the word, inspecting the flavour in her mouth.
Now, I blush, drenched in the color. Letting go of her, I fiddle and fold my arms. I hadn't even realized the word had slipped out of my mouth. It's hard to keep the same straight serious face on.
"Yes, Ivy." I stammer moderately before recovering. "Boyfriend. I'm your boyfriend. And you are my girlfriend. Period. Any complaints? Try bringing them up while you're moaning my name. "
Her mouth falls scantly and I go stiff when she dips her head between my neck and dots kisses there. I struggle to contain myself as each peck sparks a wave of lust to roll down my spine. She frisks the sheet between us and lets my erection spring free against her stomach. I grab her chin and tilt her lips to mine, trapping the softness of her full bottom lip between my teeth and sluggishly tugging it out when a groan involuntarily rips out of me.
Her hips settle against my groin and we both moan into each other.
The wetness dripping beneath her rubs all over my phallus, I clench my teeth when she grabs me in her hand and leans down to nip my ear lobe my ear, her thumbs swirls around my slit, playing with the precum that drips out.
"Complaint number one, Carter." She whispers, accentuating my name with a thick sweet moan. "l don't think I like you being in control. "
She slides down my body, caressing every bulge of muscle on my chest, abdomen, along my V-line...
"Complaint number two. " Her lips lock around the head of my erection, tongue slurping out, teasing and licking the juices. I grumble in rapture. She sucks the thick bulb once, then plops it out tentatively, making sure it slides out from between tight rosy lips. An alluring sneer graces her. "I loath the way you test me."
I cripple with a guttural groan, giving in. "Fuck." The curse escapes. "Please do that again."
She lets me go, aware of the torture it'd put us both through. Her hair flops down her back as she turns away. "I was thinking of having something more...vegan, for breakfast."
The images of her mouth open as she slurps down my hard on erection plagues my mind. I shut my eyes and visualize angrily thrusting into the back of her throat, choking and pulling her apart before me. The illusion doesn't help my current state, and I watch as precum spills out of my dick.
"Get up." Her eyes remain on my erection as though she were fighting herself from hopping and sinking herself on me. "Let's surprise Claude and my aunt with breakfast."
I look up, seating away how it felt to evade the wet walls of her cunt and fill her up.
" Your aunt? " I fluster wildly." She's around? "
Ivy's lip tilts up, a certain joy brimming within her. "Get dressed. Then we can have a delicious breakfast to mark this day."
෴
I descend the stairs to a foul acrid stench of something charred and burnt to a crisp. It wafts in the atmosphere with a thick heavy black smoke sure to set the smoke detectors off. My hand reaches out to immediately clamp cover and protect my nostrils from the acid smell.
Ivy had tried to cook. But whatever she'd placed on that stove...I pause and review the mess in the kitchen. From the discarded grimy utensils littered everywhere to the final end result of the disastrous black mass sitting on the pan, swishing from the water that'd been dumped on in it. Ivy stands there, glaring at her produce with an uninspiring look of humdrum.
"I--" Broken glass crunches under my feet. "I want to ask how...but..."
Her dark eyes shift to me with a malicious glare, silencing and choking anything else I'd utter back into my mouth. She then places her hands on her hips, I proceed stepping closer to her.
"I thought perhaps with enough passion, I could do it." She complains, glowering.
I skip over a few more utensils and warily stop beside her, wringing my arms around her waist and pecking her cheek to soothe her. Mentally, I yearn to take this picture of us wearing matching sweats, and cuddling in this catastrophe.
"It's okay." I smile. "I think you're just ..." My eyes return to our scalded breakfast "I think you're just really passionate, Ivy. "
Her tongue sweeps over her teeth as she folds her hands and pops a hip. "Kent. That is hardly humourous."
A grin etches my face. "Why don't we start again? Let's clean everything up and make that delicious breakfast."
She frowns. "Or I can excuse myself and you can do it--"
I shove her towards the dish washer." Together, Ivy. We do it together. "
We don't. She tries to but Ivy can hardly get anything done right and in the end, when I'm done cleaning up, she seats herself on the countertop and watches as I whisk and conjure up her dead meal. She had attempted to prepare waffles which were her aunt's favorite. Several times, I endeavour to indulge her in what I'm doing, each time it just ends up with me on the floor while she chews the strawberries. I gave up at some point, and found pleasure in smearing concoctions on her face. Ivy sat and explained how she'd found her aunt in the burning flames of the mansion, she described how the gala had morphed into war, and how she'd had to escape before it caught up to her.
I paused as she clarified how her mother had returned and had a hand in everything, remembering well that she'd informed me of her desire to kill the woman.
"You didn't kill her though." I prayed she hadn't.
Ivy quit examining her hair and stared at me, as if it'd just hit her, she blinked. "No. I didn't. I hardly thought about that. My mother...I-I decided to let it go. "
She mumbled as though the realization had just hit her. The astonishment on her face grew pale and ashen, till I thought she looked horribly sick. I grabbed her hand, hoping to give a sense of solace.
"Ivy." The way my voice lulled her conscience back made my heart beat stumble.
She bites her lip. "I've wanted to kill her so bad, Kent. I've craved ending her life. She brought me all this misery and in the end she ran away from it. All of it."
"Murdering your mother would never satisfy you, Ivy. But letting go of the hate...the pain, would bring way more serenity to your mind. It heals your soul."
She tries to believe that I'm right, but I can make out the doubt flickering in her eyes.
I turn off the fire and unchain our fingers. The aroma of waffles slithers into the air, causing both our stomachs to rumble. Ivy shifts her stare to the golden beauties I lay onto the plates, her eyes glimmer and she hops down to inspect my work.
"Well..." She chuckles. "We did it all together, didn't we?"
I roll my eyes, murmuring. "You were as helpful as a rock."
My hands coil around her waist as I pull her against my torso and kiss her shoulders. She smiles, tilting her head to the side so my lips can climb up her neck. I playfully bite her skin, lightly sinking my teeth into her. She laughs heartily, stands on the tips of her toes to bring our eye level together. I kiss her lips, smiling like the luckiest lunatic. She slips her tongue into mine and sucks until I feel my lips go numb.
"Ivy?"
We both pause and quickly swerve to our left. My heart lurches up my throat with a burden of panic that seizes my body. A woman stands at the kitchen entrance, ginger red hair spread out wildly atop her hair. Her deep brown umber eyes study the scene before them with an incoherent tilt to her head. Her posture is strong but also frail, she folds her arms and makes an expression that demeans a big question mark.
"What is Kent Carter doing in our house?" Her voice isn't intimidating, but there's that guarded edge to it, as if Ivy having another person in her life was the curiosity of the century.
Ivy gives her aunt a blank look. I gulp to myself and ponder how long she'd been there. A red embarrassed blush sips into my cheeks as I realize she must have been in her room last night while Ivy and I hungrily devoured each other. Did she hear anything? The moans? The slapping skin against skin? I bite my lip.
"You shouldn't be up, Mary. You're weak." Ivy instead says, unclasping from our hold. "Get back to your room. I'll bring your breakfast."
Mary continues to stare at me, indignant for answers. I reluctantly inch towards her, and draught a deep intake of the air. She watches my movement, scrutinizing. Her eyes flicker when I raise a hand in greeting, good intention brimming in my small smile.
"Hey. My name is Kent Carter." She knows who I am. I can tell. It's not always that I meet anyone's parents from the blue, when I did, they're usually aware of me and start with amiable handshakes and appreciative hugs.
Mary squints at me though, probing my presence in her territory. "What are you doing here?"
"Fatti gli affari tuoi, zia!" Ivy snaps irritatedly, carrying a plate of waffles to the dining. She pulls out a chair. "Ora vieni. Sit. Eat." It's a command.
Mary gradually takes her eyes off me, scolding Ivy with an acidic frown. I cower as they speak Italian, hoping I could at least understand something.
"Il suono di voi due mi ha svegliato la notte scorsa." She gives a very disapproving glare. "Perché parli italiano? Sai che lo odio."
Ivy groans. They bicker some more, going back and forth, drilling each other. I awkwardly stand there, unsure of my next move. At some point, Ivy steps closer and holds my hand roughly, glaring daggers at her aunt with a cruel tilt of her lips as if in defence. The fight draws on for longer than I expect. Claude limps into the room somewhere between the squabble, he winces as he handles his wounds. His notable blue eyes lift to the scene before him.
Our eyes meet, and I try to reach out and offer help but Ivy's grip is hard and I hardly move. Claude leans against the counter, aggravated by the noise. He yells a word at both women, silencing them. They instantly clamp down their lips, only for a moment. Then Mary gasps and glares at Claude, her eyes wide and unbelieving as she turns to Ivy.
"Or was it him you were with?" Her brown eyes sharpen. "I swear, Ivy. Vuoi diventare una prostituta?"
Claude's voice is slow and monotonous, almost lazy. "Tesoro. Si calmi. Non sono indisciplinato. Sono un bravo ragazzo."
"Cretino. I am not your tesoro." Mary growls.
They all fall into another contestation that sidelines me from the picture. I dot down a mental note to study Italian. This time, it takes them about five minutes before Ivy decides to shut them up. She yells something I can't comprehend before striding towards me and placing a gentle hand on my bicep. She tries to calm her voice by taking a deep breath. I circle her waist, offering as much support as I can. She pushes her hair back and locks eyes with Mary.
"Zia." Her other hand cradles against my chest. "Questo è il mio fidanzato."
There's a soul crushing silence that envelopes the room, ringing loudly against our ears. I have no idea what she said, but the effect drills into me. And it's then that I realize she's said it. She'd announced our current relationship out loud. The back of my throat goes so thick and the beat of my heart quickens with a sharp intensity as I wait on her aunt to say something, utter anything to expose her reaction on this.
Claude's eyebrows raise in amusement as he watches Mary's facial expression morph. He pours himself a tequila and draughts it down, smirking.
Mary's mouth falls, she blinks, disbelief gnaws as she searches their eyes for confirmation. Ivy nods simply once. Mary smiles. Then cries. Then smiles. And cries again. She rushes and quickly swaddles us between her arms. I don't know how to react so I stand awkwardly, trapped in the embrace. Red hair fills my vision and sneaks into my mouth.
Mary stands back then, cups her cheek and flusters over the two of us. "I--oh my God! How did this happen? I don't know if I should be happy for you boy or cry for you."
" Mary." Ivy slips between the woman and I, jaw set. "It was a long night. You should eat something. Besides, there are more important things we should discuss after all that. "
Her brown eyes glaze over, and she goes stiff, as though all she wanted to do was forget. I'm not completely covered with this topic, so I mute as the four of us sit down at the table for breakfast. Claude sits to my left and Ivy to my right, at the head of the table. I observe her aunt, stoic, as she places herself across from me. The air in the room becomes tense and quickly they start eating and going through everything that happened.
I'm unable to add anything, I silently keep to myself.
"Then she sent me the invite to the gala." Ivy goes on, dripping syrup all over her waffles. "I couldn't turn it over."
Mary speaks about her situation, how she was held captive, bound and gagged in a house. She runs them through how she was held captive, with over fifteen guards stationed to watch her head.
Her brown eyes then sparkle. "Vincent. He was there. You're math teacher."
I look up, brows knitting. Mr. Vincent wasn't in town, last I'd heard from him, he'd gone to visit an old friend who was straining for life with cancer.
"Are you sure?" Ivy scowls.
The woman's brown eyes fall on me, unsure if I should hear this conversation. "Sì. Sembrava che lavorasse con quegli uomini."
Ivy blinks, unfazed with the secret identity the man had. She simply proceeds eating, slicing into her plate, with a little more force however and an angry sneer etching her beautiful face. Their conversation carries on, webbing from a traitor called Damon who is a spy sent by police, relatives no one knew about, some Don actually being female and the innocent man I thought was the heir actually being a decoy to mess with everyone.
"Who's the heir then?" I ask, speaking up for the first time.
All eyes turn to me, I shrink. Mary frowns at Ivy as she replies. "No one knows."
A thick silence rests on the table, heavy. Claude plops a blue berry into his mouth, thinking. It takes them fifteen more minutes to agitate the entire matter before their banter flows down to casual talk accompanied smiles and laughter that crinkles the earlier tension. Mary shoves me into the exchange, bombarding a thousand questions on how I met Ivy, why I got interested, what made me interested and if I was scared of her.
"You know, I always prayed you find the right person." Mary told her. "Someone good hearted that could squeeze into your life and light a fire."
The two females get into a talk that again thrusts me away. King slouches on his chair, finished with his breakfast and shuts his eyes, tired and physically extorted. I offer taking him to bed. He wiggles his brows suggestively and smiles.
"Already making flings?"
I roll my eyes and lend him a hand. "You wish."
He takes it and pushes himself up, strutting into the living room. I'd been curious as to what his reaction would be when he found out about us. King supported Ivy for more years than I have, he was there beside her for everything: heists, emergencies, sexual frustration and satisfaction, murder - he'd been there for all that. Was he okay with me just...jutting into it all? Did he hate me for coming between them and ruining the whole partners in crime thing they had?
I trudge behind him, watching as he falls on the couch with a sigh, then winces as his wounds pierce with sharp pain.
"Are you okay?"
He waves in dismissal, trying to sleep. "I'm fine."
I clear my voice. "I mean with... this thing. Me and Ivy. Are you okay with it?"
His face is mushed against the cushion so I can't tell his expression. He lays still for a moment, quiet, contemplating and collecting his thoughts on it as though he hadn't bothered to. I patiently wait for response, shifting between my feet and rustling my hair in apprehension.
"Do you want me to be honest? "
I bite my lip, the conversation between Ivy and her mom drifts in the air, a distant murmuring. "Yes. Please be honest."
Four seconds, he lifts his head and let's his striking blue eyes melt with mine. I'm taken back with how much emotion swirls there, deep like a bottomless ocean, fierce like the waves clashing against the shores. He mutters slowly.
"I like how you make her feel." He admits. "I've given her everything but I've never been able to make her feel like that. I've never been able to tone down her life so she can taste that feeling. "
I stumble, puzzled. "What feeling?"
He huffs, blowing dark hair from his face. " Normalcy. The feeling of being normal. " My chest tightens." The normal where you have high school crushes, think about prom or your hair and the senior year, that ruckus to finally finish school and start afresh, festive family dinners...all that weird stuff you common folk do. "
He flips over so he's staring at the ceiling. " She's happy, gorgeous. And I would do anything in this world to protect that happiness."
This time, the silence that follows is more comforting and full. I can't help releasing a breath and smiling broadly. King lits a cigar and stands up, unsteady with the pain from the bullet wound on his shoulder and abdomen.
"You two aren't getting rid of me though." He pauses before me, tall and brooding as he lean down to whisper. " The three of us are going to have more fun than we've ever had."
The anticipation that prickles my skin is red, I gulp as he pulls away and exonerates a puff of heavy smoke that coils around my face, I cough at the toxicity as it clogs down my throat. King slides away with a smirk.
"No smoking in the house!" Mary yells. " Go outside."
It's odd. Being in another house. Another territory. Another family. The feeling plunges down into me, vibrant and artificial. The world seems almost fuzzy as it wraps around me, drugging my mind and sipping into it slowly. Ivy comes to me and stares, grey eyes probing. She asks something that I don't really remember answering. What I remember is her giving me a phone to call Tom and Clara inorder to notify them of my condition and sending the day at her house, feeling blissful and blessed.
On Sunday, Ivy drives me back to my house after a long conversation about my sister and everything else I had to do on Monday. She parks her car at the front of my house and let's her sharp nails claw the steering wheel. I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, pausing as I came face to face with reality. At three in the evening, the block is full with life as Halloween is finally done. I grip the straps of my bag and slide my hand onto the door, clicking it open.
The chanter in the air sinks into my skin, the sound of everything. Kids playing and squealing, music filing the atmosphere with a low base as some parents who've gathered at Mr. Yon's house chat away with beers. I sigh, allowing the feel of this place to return to me, it returns with an odd sort of sadness. I had missed my house, yet returning meant leaving my new home with Ivy.
"You are worried." Ivy states, though it sounds more like a question. She plainly adds. "What's wrong?"
I shrug. "I'm just nervous."
Her brows knit imperceptibly. I reluctantly place a foot outside the car, eager to meet my sister. I don't have to wait long though, because she comes hurtling out the house before I'm fully out of the car. My eyes widen as she pounces upon me, beaming.
"Kent! You're back!" She squeals. "You're back! You're back! You're back!"
I oomph on the hard pressure of her body and laugh, clamping her into a bear hug.
"Kathy." I grin, spitting her long nutty hair out of my mouth. "How are you?"
She slightly pulls away, that parental frown marring her brows. "Kent Carter. You have a lot to answer for. Where have you been? What has kept you so busy this time?--"
I heave her body off mine and and grab my bag again, smiling as I ruffle her hair. She glares, then her eyes land on Ivy, nonchalantly slumped in her seat and curiously watching us from beneath the darkness leaking around her. Kathy's eyes turn wide and she dissolves her back against me at an attempt to hide from the grey scrutinizing eyes.
"Kent ..." She murmurs, seeking some form of protection.
I smile and touch her shoulders, shoving her closer to Ivy. "It's okay, Kathy. She's not gonna hurt you."
She grips my arm. "But daddy said..."
" I know. I know what daddy said. " I had this urge to make her understand. I wanted her to pick her own light to see Ivy from, not that in which everyone shone on her.
Ivy leans across the seat towards us, in her hand, a bright red lollipop sits, extended to Kathy.
"Katherine Carter." She drawls, voice thick. "I like the green in your eyes."
A cherry red shade blossoms on my cheeks, infesting my face and spreading down my neck. Kathy stares cautiously at the candy, unsure if she should reach out. I rub her back encouragingly as the wheels in her head mechanically turn. It's after a while contemplating that she finally decides to take it, slowly reaching out and plucking it from Ivy's open palm. We both smile down at her.
"You're not a bad person?" Kathy inquires.
Ivy shrugs. "Not exactly. "
"Prove it. "She dares, folding her arms defiantly and pouting her lip.
I scowl. "Kathy."
The sharp edges of Ivy's sensual lips quirk up in a lazy smile, her eyes gleam. "How would you like me to prove it, little one?"
"There's a bake sale at my school before the semester ends. " She says, flipping her small head up to me for confirmation. I frown. " All the kids are required to bake as much as they can then present their pastries for the sale."
Interest stirs in the grey orbs. "And..."
"And Tiffany will be there. Which means I have to do all I can to make my pastries better than hers. " Kathy unwraps the candy. " If you help me bake my pastries and sell them at the bake sale, then I'll believe you aren't a bad person."
" What makes you so sure?"
" No bad person would let a kid torture them into baking. You bad people hate it the idea."
I thread my fingers with my hair. Secretly, I'm hoping Ivy accepts. This could be a wonderful way to start our...well... relationship. And she needed a good break from whatever she had been doing lately. She could find time to replace blood with pastries.
"Torture?" Ivy's nose crinkles, a smirk lights up her beautiful face. "You think you can torture me with..." The smirk slips away as she realizes she can't bake, or cook anything. The very thought of the kitchen makes her lurch.
"I think you'll need my help." I add. "I'm good at baking."
Kathy waves in dismissal at me. "So, Ivy what do you say? Saturday. Ten sharp?"
She says it like a threat, as though announcing battle. Ivy eyes the young girl. "Sure, little red riding hood. I'll be here at ten sharp."
I pick up my sister and thrust her over my shoulder, chuckling. "See you tomorrow?" I ask Ivy.
She ignites the car engine and leans back over to me, I reach out for her lips, sliding my tongue into the warm pleasant confines of her mouth. There's a sharp gasp from Kathy as I pull away. The world spins, dizzy and a tingling erupts on my every nerve. She smiles softly.
"See you tomorrow, Carter."
That smile lingers in my mind, hovering.
Our eyes thread, taking in the other, making sure this isn't a dream we're losing ourselves to. I slam the door shut seconds later and step back as she reverses from the driveway. The tires skid against gravel and the car zooms unsteadily past her, her reckless driving pulling my brows down in a worried frown. If she kept driving like that then I'd have to start laying my opinions about that drivers license she should get. I didn't doubt she learnt how to drive from King.
"Did you just--" Kathy bounced on my back, speechless. "Did you just kiss her?!"
I blink, bringing myself back to earth. "Huh? Um... I--"
She stretches her neck from behind, trying to bring her face before mine. "Oh My God! You did! Is she your girlfriend?!" Her eyes widen. "No way! Are you dating...her? How?"
My eyes shut as I strut to the porch. "Kathy, it's not what you think. We just..."
The girl wasn't listening. "She's so pretty. Prettier than Clara. And she seems interesting, like mysterious and dark. Kent..." She grabs my hair and tugs it. I wince. "How did you guys hit it up?--"
I shut the door and relax into the living room. The relentless questions that pour out of my sister's mouth sort of relax my mind. At least she wasn't so freaked out about this. The last thing I needed was her against my choices. I open the refrigerator and smile as she blabbers on, endlessly spilling things from her mouth.
"I bet she's rich. That car is definitely expensive." She grabs the yoghurt I hand her." I can't believe you're...a thing with the Ivy Bathory. It's nice for a change. At least there's something exciting in your life. I still can't believe you have a girlfriend though. A pretty one moreover. That's just--"
"Where's Ruth?" I ask.
"Groceries. Oh and uh--" She licks her fingers, distracted. "Dad called."
I pause. "Really."
"Yeah. He said he'll be back on Wednesday next week and we're gonna have a family dinner then."
I frown. My father had left six months ago for some business in London. He was supposed to have returned two months back but he'd gotten held up.
"Aren't you excited?" I scrutinize her unbothered expression.
She shrugs. "He'll probably be off before the week's over." She hops on the table. "Let's talk about your girlfriend."
The word is still new and registers pristinely into my mind, fresh and reviving. I try to dissipate the buzz that rekindles with in me, waving her off.
"Let's have a movie night." I offer instead.
"Yay!" She jumps. "Should I call Tom and Clara?"
I contemplate. "No."
I didn't feel like having myself probed and interrogated at this moment. All I wanted to do was sit down and gulp down tons of yoghurt while coming to terms with the exhilarating fact that I was someone's boyfriend. Ivy Bathory, to be morbidly specific. I had someone to kiss and cuddle. And she just happened to be the most beautiful thing this universe has created.
"Here." Kathy hands me the remote as we plop down and dim the lights. The TV come to life, the sound of an ongoing movie already playing.
My mind is hardly paying attention, and there's and out grown grin that's plastered on my face the entire time. Midway through the movie, Kathy stares at me for a little to long, assessing everything. How her brother is currently dating a rumored killer with a dark past. She shakes her head and looks away, smiling.
"You're messed up."
There, someone had finally said it out loud. But despite the reminder, my grin broadens and I pull her close, pecking her head.
"And the happiest man on earth."
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