I wasn’t good at being a damsel in distress.
It took a little more than creepy clowns or real life monsters or being on the brink of death to scare the crap out of me.
Seeing my dead mother pinned to the ceiling came awfully close though.
Her eyes were open in what I could only describe as inhuman curiosity. Her skin was translucent, her dark red hair, so like mine, floating in the air like she was underwater.
She looked just she always had : the intimidatingly intelligent, amazing woman who was the only ray of sunshine I’d had growing up.
I had tears in my eyes and I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
Because as much as I was up for a super emotional family reunion, there was just one problem with this situation.
Nothing could bring back the dead.
With all their fancy parlour tricks, there was one kind of magic the Immortals could never do.
She opened her mouth and spoke, only there were no words.
Just a shriek so high pitched, the windows shattered. I shielded myself, pulling up my tattered blanket, gripping Biscuit’s blade harder.
“You’re not real.” I whispered, as she reached out. Her expression was so sad, it tugged at my heart.
You can’t be real.
I closed my eyes, throwing the blade upward. There was a brilliant flash of light when I opened them again.
She was gone.
Biscuit jumped through the window at exactly that moment, giving me my second heart attack for the evening.
“What happened?” He looked around, alert. “Are you alright?”
“I was.” I muttered, swallowing. “Have you heard of a door, Biscuit? I totally dig the whole burglar thing you got going, but you should try that next time.”
He joined me on the bed, looking at me intently. “You sure you’re alright?”
I took a deep breath, but I let him wrap his hand around my waist.
I wasn’t entirely lying. There was a time when I’d been used to this. My mom had died when I was eight in a car accident.
Over the next two years, this had been a daily affair.
Even as a kid, I’d understood that this wasn’t normal. I’d get scared and throw something at her, but she’d always come back the next day.
Yeah, between the chitchats with my mother’s ghost and my father teaching me to be a professional killer, my childhood was totally average.
“Will you tell me what happened?” He asked, eyeing his blade on the ceiling. “Because you sure as hell didn’t throw that up there for kicks and giggles.”
“Eventually.” I said, serious. “I may or may not choose to tell you based on your behaviour.”
He looked at me incredulously.
“Are you fücking kidding me?”
“Nope.” I smiled. “And that’s all I’m going to say about this.”
Biscuit rolled his eyes, at my spot-on impression of him.
“You’re just doing this to get back at me, aren’t you?”
“That is not what I sound like.” He muttered.
“You’re right.” I pursed my lips. “I should just add a cheesy pick up line in there for good measure.”
His smile reached his eyes. In the dark, they had silvers of light dancing in their ocean blue depths.
“You talk like they didn’t work on you, Shortcake.”
“They didn’t.” I said, trying my best to keep a neutral face.
“Then perhaps we should try something else.”
I noticed how close his body was. And also the fact that we were conveniently sitting on a bed.
He didn’t do anything for a long time though.
Why the fück was that making me impatient?
You should be happy Sir. Biscuit the Pervert wasn’t giving a d--n about you.
What was the world coming to when I needed to follow his lead?
He seemed to be lost deep in thought, and eventually his fingers closed around mine. Almost mindlessly, he shifted his ring on my index finger to my ring finger.
It was such an insignificant gesture, but it made something ache inside me, looking at my hands in his.
“Well, it doesn’t mean anything.” He hesitated. “It just looks better like that.”
I looked into his eyes. I’d never seen a man more vulnerable in his life, and I knew then that I had the power to break him with one word.
Oddly, that made me feel weaker than ever.
“It does.” I said, softly.
He looked me in the eyes, hesitantly reaching forward. I held my breath, watching him. A flash of what would happen played in my head : my palms sweaty, my hands around his neck, his kiss so deep I questioned my whole life –
I panicked and put a finger on his lips.
Biscuit removed it, exasperated.
“Well, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” He said, frustrated.
I swallowed. Busted.
“It’s not the right time. Or place.”
Because forgive me for not wanting the cockroaches seeing me getting it on.
“So what is the right time and place, Lady Shortcake?” He asked, genuinely curious.
I thought about it and came up with the farthest place from here.
“The Great Wall of China, midsummer.”
Biscuit laughed. “Wow, you’re high maintenance.”
“Say that more often.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s definitely going to get you in my pants.”
His eyes were dark. “What I’m planning doesn’t really require pants, baby.”
I was blushing so much, he gave me a wolfish smile.
“Aren’t you just a little curious, Shortcake?”
“You’re not the Discovery channel.” I fired back. “You’re not going to show me anything I haven’t already seen.”
Biscuit looked at me, intent.
“Then I’ll make you forget.” He said, simply. “All those stupid little flings, all those ässhats who dared to hurt you, and all those pansies who don’t know how to get a woman screaming the right way.”
He came closer. My breathing hitched, and I moved back on the bed, some primal instinct kicking in.
“Every little problem we have right now. Every second thought you’ve ever had about this.”
My back hit the headrest. Biscuit’s lips were inches from mine. Before I could move, he pinned my arms over my head, his body trapping me. It felt like a hundred degrees in here as he looked at the flimsy torn shirt I was wearing.
His sapphire eyes screamed pure animal lust.
“I’ll make you forget your whole world. I’ll make you forget your own name.”
Hot. Fücking. D--n.
For a second, I was sure he was going to do one hell of a lot more than kiss me. For one second, I was scared that I wouldn’t want to stop him.
Biscuit kissed my neck tenderly and let go of my hands.
“But I’d like to earn that right, cara .” Biscuit said, looking up at me. “So tell me what I have to do for one kiss.”
I couldn’t help it. I held him tight, laughing partly out of relief, partly out of wonder.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my chest, listening to my heart beat.
“One dinner.” I said, ruffling his soft dark gold hair. “If you can act like a non-perverted filthy minded bästard for one date, I’ll kiss you myself.”
He arched a brow, his expression absolutely serious.
What did you think he was going to say, you idiot?
“So, um.” I said, trying to be casual. “Ground rules : no fancy ten-thousand-dollar-a-plate bullshît, no flowers and no innuendos. Oh, and I happen to like dessert.”
I can’t believe this is happening .
“Got it.” Biscuit said, just as casual. “Oh, and I happen to like cherry flavoured lipstick. For dessert.”
I rolled my eyes.
Like he’s going to win, anyway.
Victoria : “LIKE IN THE NAME OF DESSERT.”XD