Chapter 17 #2
What do you want to know? Where does one even begin?
In between pots of soil and jam on toast. In packs of gummy worms and the rolled credits of my favourite movies.
In the inconsequential photos that seemed to pop up on my phone during lectures or when I was studying.
In the stolen glances and fought against laughs, Thallor had quickly become my favourite thing.
It was funny how a smile here and a smirk there seemed to chip away at my cynicism like it was mere glass.
It was like I had spent all my life seeing in black and white, and now everywhere I look, I see fiery red and eyes that could melt hearts.
“He’s just a friend, Grandma.” My tone was firm.
Resolute. As if I was trying to convince everyone in the room, including myself.
Because there was no reality in which a demon and a human ended up together.
And even if there were, I was not sure he would even want that.
How many pacts had he found himself in over his lifetime?
And how many of those pacts had been women?
Nope. Not the train of thought to follow.
“Hmmm,” Maura muses.
I fight the tugging at my lips. “What ‘hmmm’?”
“That smile you’re fighting doesn’t say friend, either.” I pulled my hand away from hers in mock outrage, and at the same time, my phone buzzed.
“And that isn’t the behaviour of a boy who thinks of you as a friend either,” Maura chuckled to herself in clear satisfaction.
But her joke didn’t reach me. In fact, I’m not sure I heard it at all.
It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and everything temporarily paused as I stared down at my phone. There was no text. No message.
Just one photo.
One photo of yellow tulips.
What was probably very inconsequential to Thallor felt like something momentous to me.
It was something I had mentioned in passing because they were Maura’s favourite flowers.
I could rarely afford to buy them, but I would often admire them when we saw them at the grocery store.
And now they were sat, unassuming and quiet, in a vase on my kitchen counter.
To me, my lingering stares and the passing remark had been just that—a small comment made in a conversation that now felt so incredibly profound.
The tulips weren’t just flowers to Maura.
They meant more to her than that. Not only were they the flowers my grandfather had brought with him on their first date, but they were also the flowers that marked the true beginning of spring.
For a gardener like my grandmother, spring was always her favourite time of year.
When all the hard work in winter came to fruition in a symphony of colour that seemed to plaster a permanent smile on her face.
I wasn’t entirely sure why it was the yellow that she loved so much. It just seemed to make her happy. But to me, the colour reflected everything that Maura was. Warm and joyful and happy. Even now, she did everything with a smile on her face.
I let my surroundings come back to me slowly as I looked up at Maura. “I promise it’s not like that.”
But my voice barely came out louder than a whisper.
“What is it like then?”
I’m not quite sure.
We had done the same song and dance before, and I knew better than to ask Thallor what he thought of my outfit as I stepped into the living room. The sound of my black heel boots clicking against the wooden floor reverberated through the space, announcing my presence before I had a chance to.
My first date with Jude had been relatively uneventful.
Between a variety of pastries and a decaf latte–something Jude had alluded to being for children and people who had no business drinking coffee–Jude updated me on his time back home over Christmas.
I hadn’t realised how truly well off he was until he started name-dropping celebrities he’d bumped into and a few of the extravagant events he’d attended, including a New Year’s Eve party–one with giftbag goodies that could be sold to fund several years’ worth of rent or collectively solve world hunger.
I tried to ignore the lingering notion that he had suggested we go out on New Year’s Eve, only to call me up the day before and say he got caught up with things back home.
Despite my overthinking, my anxiety hadn’t gotten the best of me–thank you, decaf coffee.
I’d smile sweetly, nod along to what he was saying with an appropriate level of enthusiasm, and laugh at the right times, which seemed to afford me a second date.
One that was necessary to keep my thoughts from wandering back to Thallor at every possible opportunity.
And given that Isaac was still giving me the silent treatment a week later, a distraction was definitely what I needed.
It’s why I was standing in my kitchen in a delicate white, sheer embroidered mini skirt with a ruffled hem instead of a mechanics shirt or graphic tee.
I’d paired the skirt with a black corset that pulled in at the waist and laced up with a bit of string.
It did wonders for my ego, creating the illusion that I had more breasts than I really did.
I had decided to forgo the jacket, given that Jude had said he would pick me up.
I paced around the kitchen, trying to stave off any nervousness at the same time my phone buzzed.
A moment of reprieve from my thoughts was gifted to me in the form of Esme and Nick and their relentless texting.
Nick: You are going on a date and I quit !!
Nick: I am loving this new chapter for us.
Quincey: You quit?! Ah, Nick, I am so happy to hear that! What are you going to be doing?
Quincey: I miss you!
Nick: I miss you too! Moving to a place nearer to Andrew :)
Ezzy: Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my best friend?
Ezzy: ARE YOU WEARING A BLACK THONG?
Quincey: That was not intentional, I just haven’t done any laundry. Does it look bad?
Ezzy: He’ll be dragging his jaw across the floor all night.
Quincey: Have you heard from Isaac? I messaged him about his practice but he didn’t respond.
Ezzy: No :( We were meant to hang out but he cancelled. Seems to always be busy with the boys at the moment.
Esme had a few exams over the last week, and I hadn’t gotten around to telling her about my conversation with Isaac.
To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t really sure how to bring it up without wading into a topic that really didn’t concern me.
I was hoping that Isaac was suffering from a temporary stress-induced lapse in judgement.
Whilst this wasn’t typical behaviour, I wasn’t surprised.
They both had such busy schedules that it was difficult to find time for each other.
But they had been together for years–a few disagreements now and then were bound to come up.
They’d come out stronger for it in the long run.
I couldn’t help but feel a little dejected about it, though. It was just another point on my long line of reasons to avoid seriously dating anyone. Relationships were difficult and messy and unpredictable. And other than my grandparents, they seldom ever worked out alright.
I looked up from where I had just pulled my nose from my phone to find Thallor’s eyes locked on mine.
And his jaw on the floor. Nerves fluttered about my stomach as I offered up a shy smile in response.
I had left my hair down, and it currently billowed down my back in cascading brown waves.
It was one of those rare, once-in-a-lifetime occurrences when my curls decided to cooperate and my outfit came together just as I had imagined.
Thallor continued to stare at me. He didn’t speak.
He didn’t blink. He barely even moved other than tightening his fists, his knuckles blanching around one of the new books I’d gotten him over the holidays.
I wasn’t sure how he felt about my outfit–a series of gruff, unimpressed comments filtered into my mind, and I was all but shaking my head before he’d even had a chance to speak.
But somehow, it was his reaction that I cared about.
And his lack of response? It made the blood rush through my veins and my heart jitter in my chest.
“I’d ask you what you think, but the last time I did, you said something stupid like ‘you look like you are going to work,’” I laughed tentatively. He shut his jaw and clenched it a moment later as if becoming keenly aware of just how long it had been hanging open.
He blinked again. Once. Then twice as he allowed his eyes to drag down the length of me. From the top of my head to the hem of my skirt, which was, for all intents and purposes, bordering on illegal.
“You…you look…” He cocked his head to the side, and for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkened. “Won’t you be cold?”
“Jude is picking me up,” I pointed out.
I noticed the slight flare in his nostrils and the set of his jaw. He placed his book down and let his fists ball into place on his knees as if he was physically restraining himself from something.
“You’re going out with him again?”
“Yes, that’s why I said he’s picking me up.”
Thallor let his eyes roam over me again, and this time locked, not on the hem of my skirt, but slightly above it. If I thought his eyes had darkened before, this time they were molten, and the look he settled me with almost melted me from the inside out.
“Are you wearing black underwear?”
Thallor’s eyes locked on mine, and something snapped in his expression. Before I knew it, he had already taken several steps forward and was crowding my space like we had been pulled together by gravity into the same orbit.
“I didn’t have a chance to do laundry,” I moaned, looking down at myself. “This is all I had.”