"Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer--both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams."
- Bram Stoker
"I fell and hit it on the side table."
"You don't have a side table." His eyes narrow.
"Mama's room does."
His face is tense as he glares at me, probably sensing my lie.
It ain't my fault I'm a bad liar.
I made Dalaric breakfast to try and distract him from the question he's been adamant on asking. It didn't work.
Note: Dalaric cannot be persuaded with pancakes. Try with extra butter next time.
I cross my chubby fingers, hoping he doesn't go and check. I haven't been to mama's room in more than a year. Neither has she.
Sighing, Dalaric's hands rub the sides of my waist, his warm skin feeling even warmer on the already warm cloth of the turtleneck.
I smile at the feeling and mentally give myself a pat on the back for hiding his gloves.
Teehee.
I hid them this morning while he was in the washroom.
Only to find out he has a whole drawer of them.
So I hid the whole drawer.
Double teehee.
He only nods as he turns his back to me, putting both my hands on his head as he stands in between my legs.
I'm sitting on a black marble countertop and my butt feels out of place in his fancy open kitchen.
I thread my fingers through his hair as he wraps my legs around his waist, his back pressed to my front as we're on the same level.
It's like a piggy back ride except I'm sitting on a luxurious counter that feels like it might break because of my chubby thighs.
I like how they wiggle, though. Clancy told me bigger thighs give better blood circulation.
So I'm not chubby, just healthy.
Suck it, Shay and Landon and Mikey and- nevermind.
"Can you give me a piggyback ride?"
Dalaric shakes his head-which means he'll definitely be giving me one soon- before touching the tip of my nose with his lips after he's satisfied with his braids. He never actually pecks it, it's just his closed lips making contact.
Not that I mind. I still have to teach him. A powerpoint would do him good. I make a mental note on asking Jim if I can use the café computer again.
I glance at the time as Dalaric rolls down the turtle neck to look at my slightly scabbed wound.
It's almost one o'clock in the afternoon. We slept for a good two hours. Well, I did. Dalaric slept for three and I just watched him for the last hour.
He's also very grumpy and didn't let go of me until I practically forced him to, especially when he entered the washroom. He only glared at me and patted my bahookie before shutting the door.
It takes a lot to wake him up. A lot.
Like fifty-five kisses all around his face- a lot.
I almost ran out of breath too.
As his glaring continues, I start humming the tune to bad liar before I kiss his forehead while forcefully stretching his lips so he smiles.
Leaving me stranded on the extremely tall counter, he walks back to the room and appears a few minutes later with clothes. I hope he doesn't expect me to change out of his turtleneck.
After Dalaric puts his cup of strawberry tea, made by his truly, in the sink, I exaggeratedly sigh when I realise I have to let my hair out of my bun. Or nest, as Dalaric calls it.
Sometimes my topknots really hurt my head but I'd prefer it over a ponytail any day, Before I'm done, I shake my head to let my hair sit naturally.
Only when I turn to Dalaric do I notice that he's in a daze. I sniff my hair when he just continues staring at me, his eyes very slightly wide.
Did he find out I used his shampoo?
Surprisingly, I don't faint when he walks towards me and grazes my cheek before he whispers.
His voice is enticing, the low baritone sending some indescribable feeling to my tummy that's filled with pancakes and peach tea.
"You are so fucking unreal."
Gulp. Why is it that I only believe that when he says it? I never really minded how I looked. I don't think it matters that much, either. My nose is a bit too big though.
I can only nod as he picks up from under my arms and sets me on the ground. Like a baby.
"Are we going to the joint?"
Did that sound really cool or did that sound really cool?
Dalaric walks over to the living room and grabs his phone and wallet from the coffee table. He turns back only to shake his head and sigh before running a hand over his face.
An unattractive frown makes its way on my face. Is he stressed? I walk over to him and hold my arms outward, a signal that I need a hug. When in reality, I know he needs it more.
He doesn't lower his head since I glare at his newly bandaged wound.
I hug his waist and rub my face on his black v-neck. This is one of the rare times that he wears short sleeved shirts so I can shamelessly ogle his very muscular arms. I also want to poke the veins but that can wait. They might burst if I keep on doing it. Stupid Maya.
His arms tighten around me and he hunches over me, like a guardian angel. He's definitely my angel.
"You're my angel, y'know that, dude?" I can feel him relax a teeny bit as he sighs, the vibrations passing through my being.
Even his sighs are attractive? Put him in jail.
He tenses again and I rub his back and make tiny smiley faces on it, hopefully soothing him.
It makes me even sadder not knowing how to help him with whatever trouble he's facing.
"I have therapy." The words are laced with a tone of- embarrassment?
"That's it?" The words come out before I can stop them.
He probably thinks I'm insensitive now. He lets me go and I cling on tighter, afraid that I've just hurt his feelings.
I just hurt an angel's feelings.
If taking two mints instead of one at the school's nurses office doesn't send me to hell, this certainly will.
Dalaric's warm hands unwraps my tiny ones as he takes a step back, his face perplexed and almost shocked at my words. I chew on my bottom lip nervously.
Why do I always ruin things?
"That's it? What-" His tone is submerged in genuine confusion.
"I'm so sorry- I-I didn't mean to invalidate your-um stress but I thought it would be something more- sadder? Therapy is normal, Dalaric. It's like the doctor but um-for the mind! I really think everyone should go to therapy, regardless of whether they're mentally ill. It keeps you mentally sane and stable. Ooo- and! If they advertised therapy as much as they did the dentist, then I'm positive mental disorder rates would decrease! I did a course on this- it was free- I have a powerpoint if you want?! Maybe-"
Warm lips against mine stop my innovative speech.
My very unfit and unbalanced body automatically staggers back but even warmer hands hold me still, tightly wrapping themselves around my waist.
He does this whole tasting-my-mouth thing and I try to copy him.
Even though nothing could triumph my first kiss, this one definitely comes in second. Well- this is my second kiss. I don't know how I passed seventh grade.
God, he tastes like strawberry tea.
I have to tap out since I don't have enough oxygen anymore. He lets me go and gives my nose a closed lip peck before stepping back.
Dalaric mutters something like, "Fudging unreal." -I don't think he said fudging-before grabbing one of my fingers and walking us to the door, a bag of my clothes in his hand.
My mind works in overdrive, unable to comprehend what in the bahookie just happened. He can't just kiss me like that only once! Meanie.
Mr. Pretty opens the car door for me, using his remote control to lock the house and shade the windows. He still hasn't got me one of those.
I'm starting to think he doesn't want to share.
Note: Dalaric is greedy. For both kisses and cute tech devices.
Once we get in the car, I turn on the radio to some acoustic punk rock. Dalaric let me download songs into his ipod that's connected to the car. He's nice like that.
It's in the middle of a long, long ramble about how baby goats are the cutest animals when I notice Dalaric's tightened jaw and twitching finger.
Wasting no time, I grab his fingers and kiss it, making sure the other fingers get the same love too.
I don't like it when he's not happy.
His face softens as he sighs, the car arriving in front of my apartment building.
I know Dalaric wanted me to go with him, saying it wouldn't take that long.
but I think we need our space, making sure we don't overwhelm each other by being around each other all the time.
It's not healthy and it leads to relationships that are highly dependent on physical contact. At least that's what the course I did on relationships said.
Are we even in a relationship? We've kissed but don't I have to ask him that? Ugh. I make a mental note to google the criteria list during my shift today.
I also think I'm not the best person to be around all day and he might - probably- get tired of me sooner or later.
But that's just my insecurities. It's okie.
Dalaric opens the door for me, his hands catching me when I almost trip on the sidewalk because I was too busy waving at a chubby hotdog-dog. I love chubby animals.
Once I'm steady and grounded, his eyes turn worried. He's that selfless. He's worrying about me- a girl who talks too much-when he has a therapy session in- I turn Dalaric's wrist so I can check his silver watch- fifteen minutes.
He really is an angel.
Dalaric's eyes are hard as he stares at the building. He shakes his head before opening the car door and trying to push me inside.
"No, get in." His voice is hard but I know it's not with anger. He's just worried. He has every reason to be but I can't let him worry just because of me.
"No." Using my assassin in training voice that Jan has helped me master-yup, I'm cool-
I reprimand his command.
He seems unfazed. Darn it.
Both my hands reach up to cup his sharp, well-structured face.
My toes hurt since I'm standing on them as I speak slowly, with as much gentleness that I can achieve,
"You're going to go in there and you're going to remember that I'm here for you. Okie? I'll be here when you get back-with wendy's too-okay? I'm here for you. Also you're probably running late, I don't think that's a good impression on your doctor. I mean-you are paying them. So I don't-"
Dalaric kisses both my blushing cheeks, obviously interrupting me, and my knuckles before he gets in the car, his appreciative eyes not leaving me.
He rolls down the window as I knock on it, hoping my very strong knuckles don't crack it. That's right, I've been doing some punching on the punching bag in his office.
Kissing one of my fingers, I bring it forward to boop his nose before he can stop me. I know he likes it.
"See ya later, angel." I try to smirk before I back away.
He scowls at me, opening his mouth to definitely spew a few curse words to reprimand me but I walk away before he can do so.
Out of sight, out of mind. Or something like that.
After waving at the old lady who thinks I'm crazy, I make my way inside the building with a nervous feeling.
I hope she isn't home today. My hands automatically go up to my ears as I pass the stairs, only for them to lower themselves as I notice my landlord's not here.
Phewie.
There's an empty chair next to the entrance, where he normally sits.
I look around for any spies before walking towards it. There's a white note written in Calibri Font.
Funeral Reception: 5:00 P.M.
Ethan Costa
R.I.P.
I can't help but frown, he died?
I grab one of the sheets and make my way up, already knowing what I need.
The door is open and my heart practically leaps out of my chest. She's here.
Oh no. I'm not prepared for this. I make sure all of my skin is covered before I walk in. The quieter you are, the safer it is.
She's lying on the couch, her tragically pale blonde hair messily splayed around. A picture frame is clutched in her frail, bony fingers as she takes a sip of the vodka bottle in her unoccupied hand, the wrinkles around her mouth more apparent than before.
My feet take me forward but my eyes stay glued to her. Blue eyes make contact with my own. They're empty. The motherly love had vanished years ago.
Blue eyes turn back to the photo. I know what it is. It's the only photo we have in the house. Papa at the airport with his arms around his wife and a nine year old me. It was his second deployment. That's when it started getting worse.
Mama lets the bottle go, shattering it into tiny little pieces. Pieces that I have to pick up.
I watch as her fingers caress the photo before I reach my door, a hauntingly painful whisper sounding out in the unfurnished house.
"You did this."
I don't think I'll ever be able to stop the tears when she says those things. I clench my eyes, trying not to let them fall on Dalaric's clothes. Do tears smell? They don't taste very nice, though.
A sigh escapes my mouth as my room lays untouched. Quickly grabbing a bag and stuffing my work clothes and Dalaric's hoodie in, I walk out of the apartment, not bothering to change out of his clothes, while dishearteningly ignoring the wails from my mama.
It hurts even more to acknowledge it.
Both physically and mentally.
Shaking my head to get rid of these negative thoughts, my smile widens as I notice the pretty weather. I snap a picture of a funny looking cloud and send it to Dalaric.
I hope his therapy is going good. I wanted to know why he was going to therapy but he'll tell me when he wants to, if he wants to.
The funeral home is small and rusty when I arrive, the edges of the square shaped building slightly chipping off. It doesn't take me too long to find the room as I cross-check it with the paper in my hand.
My anticipating sad smile turns sadder as I take in the room. It's empty.
Aren't priests supposed to attend?
Didn't he have a family that he visited for emergencies?
There's no sound other than the echoes of the heels of my converse as I walk forward.
Darn it, I didn't prepare for this either.
Nervously shuffling before the casket, I take a deep breath and let one out.
Here we go, Maya, don't disappoint the dead.
"H-Hi Ethan! It's Maya. The girl from um- the building? Your building? I just wanted to uh-thank you for not cutting off our electricity when we didn't pay the bills. You were a teeny bit rude sometimes," I pinch my fingers together taking time in realising that he can't see me."-but I think you were a good man for not calling the cops on mama. I know you also feed the cats outside the building doors sometimes."
I look around, a solemn expression overcoming me. Why did no one show up?
"I'm sure people just forgot to come. They probably just mixed the dates, don't worry. Trust me, it happens quite often. Goodbye, Ethie." I wave at the casket before I walk outside the room.
Only then does a hard body collide with mine, my nose hitting the supposed wall. Why is it always my nose? I rub my eyes, making sure I can get my spy vision activated.
"Joshua?"
"Maya?"
We speak at the same time as I take steps backwards.
I look around, spotting a few janitors.
He won't do something in public right?
I only notice his red, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks when I look up from the ground.
Oh.
"Are you um-okay ?" He aggressively wipes his cheeks instead of answering.
There's only one reason why he might be here.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Joshua. I-"
"No- you're fucking not." I shake my head vigorously.
How could he think that? Bereavement is one of the most painful things out there.
"I am." My voice is gentle as I speak.
He walks forward, his hands coming up to my neck before he stops. His body hunches as he slides on the wall, legs splayed out on the floor with his back to the brick.
"She-she just went. She never told me she had cancer." He shakes as he cries, my heart constricting because of how much pain he seems to be in.
"I think she's in a better place, Joshua."
He doesn't reply but continues crying, his sobs echoing in the empty hallway.
I grab a tissue roll from one of the janitor closets and roll it towards him, making sure I'm a good distance away. He wipes his face before he cries again.
"Y-you think? You think she is, Maya?" His eyes are sad and hopeful. I nod with a sad smile. I hope she's in heaven.
"Yes, she is. And she's looking down on you. I'm sure she must've had her reasons for not telling you."
He nods to himself, repeating the words to himself. I don't know who this she is but it must be someone important.
I also don't know why I'm helping the boy who threatened to assault me but my heart can't stand his pain.
Stupid Maya.
I try and walk away softly, making sure I don't disturb his breakdown. He needs to let it out.
Taking a deep breath, I turn when he calls my name.
Please don't say anything mean. Please don't-
"Forgive me." He gets up, his eyes cast down in shame as he walks away.
He mumbles to himself as he staggers a few steps.
I hope he's okay.
I know what it feels like to lose someone too.
☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎
Skipping my way to the café, I enter the warm abode with a smile. Two large arms immediately wrap around me. Bear hug! Jim laughs wholeheartedly when I struggle for air.
"There's my favorite worker! By the way, you're friends are here." He pinches my cheek before walking away. Jim is wearing green pants. I love them.
After soothing the affectionate pain, I glance around the café to see who he's talking about.
I have about one friend if I exclude Dalaric and his friends.
My eyes find Clancy. I smile but stop when I see the pretty girl next to him. Oh. I don't particularly like talking to new people sitting with people I already know. Changing into my work clothes, I give myself a pep talk. Yes, I need a pep talk to talk to a girl. My history with girl friends is very rocky and I don't want a repeat of it. It's not a nice feeling.
You can do this, Maya. Just go and talk to her. Simple, very simple. You need to get out of your room of social anxiety before it's too late.
But it's so warm and comfortable in here...I give myself a pat on the cheek and make my way out to the counter. Both Clancy and the girl are having a look through the menu as I stand before them.
Breathe. Don't shake. Breathe.
"Hi there! My name's Maya and I hope you're having a good day. What would you like to order?"
I smile at Clancy who smiles back and pokes the small baby goat badge on my collar that I got from a thrift store.
The girl laughs when he does that. She laughs so nicely.
"Hi! I'm Helen." She gives me a sweet smile.
She's so pretty. She has light, pale skin that glows in the café lighting. It's almost like white chocolate, making her pink lips and pale blue eyes stand out.
Wowie. Her hair is in two buns on each side. Were they called galaxy buns? That doesn't sound right.
I really want to be her friend.
"H-Hi! It's very nice to meet you." Stupid stuttering.
I try and give her a smile as sweet as hers but I don't think it works. God, pretty people intimidate me.
Fatima walks in behind the counter, already dressed in her work clothes. I nervously glance at her, really feeling like giving her a hug.
Fatima, who's dressed in a dark grey hijab today, rolls her eyes before beckoning me over. "Only one."
I grin and we hug for a good few seconds before she pats my head and starts taking Clancy and Helen's orders.
I also give Fatima the keto cupcakes I found on sale at one of the bakeries close to my house. Fatima told me she's really serious about this weird diet. She smiles before calling me a munchkin and thanking me.
Once they come to collect their coffees and croissants, Helen shrieks as she sees Fatima.
Fatima rushes out the counter and they both meet in a nice, friendly hug.
I ignore the slight pain in my heart at the thought of never having a friendship like that. I have Dalaric, hopefully but I need at least one friend.
Someone I don't want to kiss the bahookie out of.
All I do is smile back at their encounter, playing with my fingers.
Clancy also laughs along with whatever their talking about. I really don't like feeling left out. It's hard to make friends when you don't know how to interact with them.
Shay and I never had that problem because there was never an emotional bond. I only got used to it because I didn't have any other friends. I am so sad.
I don't think I should cry at work. But I really want to. I wish Dalaric was here.
Once they take their orders and go sit down, Fatima turns to me and smiles, almost knowingly.
"Hey, once your shift ends, wanna' go hang with them?" My eyes go wide like frisbees.
Why on earth would they want that?
"I um-don't think that's a good idea. Helen doesn't really know me so it'd be better if you just went-"
"Don't be silly, little munchkin. How bout' you try and get to know her? We went to the same high school together and she's cool. Okay?"
I can only nod, considering the motherly yet stern look in her eyes. She's only a few years older than me but she scares the shizzazles out of me sometimes.
I don't even know why she works at a café when she gets paid almost triple at her job-that-I-can't-really-speak-of.
The rest of the shift goes by like a breeze, some of Dalaric's people come to get lemon bars. It's funny seeing trained assassins chew on tangy desserts. They leave me big tips, though.
I have a feeling Dalaric has something to do with that. I think the charity box deserves it more than I do.
Fatima and I walk over to where Clancy and Helen are animatedly conversing.
I tug at Dalaric's hoodie, suddenly very nervous and sweaty. My hands sweat naturally but this is something way out of my comfort zone.
☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎
I happily skip my way to the warehouse, my grin getting wider with each thought of the day.
Helen made me feel so welcome and was so incredibly sweet.
At some point, I blurted out that she was really pretty and she blushed and returned the compliment. That's my first ever compliment from a girl. It's definitely going in my book.
Helen is in her first year of medical school. She graduated early since she's a genius, as Fatima said.
My mouth embarrassingly went agape when she asked me about my dreams and aspirations. I've never had a girl friend who's this interested in me. I almost cried at how genuine it was.
I must've looked stupid, gasping at normal friend behavior. Thankfully, Helen and Fatima only laughed and did not point it out. I'm thankful for that and I think I already love this whole friend thing.
The best part must've been when they asked if I wanted to hang out. Yes, hang out with them on Tuesday, after school.
That's only two days away and I'm already nervous. I can't wait to tell Dalaric about it. He'd be happy that I'm making genuine friends.
Using the knocking technique my angel taught me, I knock once then thrice, really slow at first and the sped up. It took a few tries.
The door opens to reveal a startled Jan and Rafael. The both gulp when they see me and pull me inside quickly.
"Oh em gee! I love your green hair! Can you do purple-" I try and compliment Jan on his died tips and his matching hearing aid but he shakes his head and looks around.
It's eerily silent in here, where is everyone?
Rafael holds my shoulders and guides me to Dalaric's office. The lounge area is packed but they're all quiet, sitting on the couches with wary looks. I've never seen more than fifty people not make a single sound.
What in the name of yellow tellitubbies is going on?
Once we teach the door of the office, both Jan and Rafael stand in front of me with nervous looks.
"Listen, Maya. We don't know who else can help." Jan sighs, running his hand down his face. Did he pierce his brows?
After a few minutes of waiting for an explanation, I notice Fatima come up behind him, a wary look on her face as well. I'm getting worried.
"What's wrong, guys? Is everything okay?"
Rafael scratches his afro, looking at Jan and Fatima before opening the office door and shoving me into the room.
The only words that I hear before he does that is,
"Boss is angry."