Silver-Plated Scars

Inspired by Theresa Jacobs "Miss Rosalie's pretty," Hunter says and Mr Santiago, his incredibly handsome uncle, smile while his eyes gracefully roam over my body. My cheels flush and I tug at the hem of my dress. The energetic toddler mischievously smile at me. "Hunter," I clear my throat and ruffle his hair. "You go find yourself a seat, I'll be with you shortly." He hugs my thigh, let's go of Iron's hand and runs towards his table. I turn back to Mr Santiago and gasp as I see his face merely touching mine. "You wanted to see me?" He reminds me, his cool breath fanning my reddened cheeks. I nod and wipe my sweaty palms against my beige, off-the-shoulder dress. "Hum, yes... follow me?" After several seconds we finally enter my small, matchbox office. "Have a seat, sir." "I prefer standing." "Hum, yes..." I take multiple drawings out of Hunter's folder and neatly place them next to one another. "Over the past few weeks, I've noticed the contrast in Hunter's mood. One day he's happy, then the next he just.... he turns into this evil toddler. And I've been noticing this-switch in him especially on Monday mornings, Mr Santiago. "What are you insinuating, Miss Stein?" "I prefer you calling me Rosalie." he smiles and picks the drawins up from my desk. "Do you see that? How does he possess the power to draw such-such immersing drawings, Mr Santiago?" "I'll just confiscate these, Miss Stein; you have a nice day now." "You cannot just take those, Mr Santiago, it's against the school's policy for-" he shrugs. "Stop me," He walks out of my office and I gasp, "And as I've said, Mr Santiago, it's just Rosalie." I breathe and shake my head. "Rosalie," I check the time once more and glance at Hunter. He swiftly colours the picture he's been busy with since colour time which was three hours ago. "Are you sure your uncle is on his way?" He nods and holds the picture up for me to see. I smile, "My uncle is my hero." I kneel next to him and rest my elbows against the table. "Yeah, he saved me from the fire," Hunter lifts his shirt up, I gasp and slide my fingers across his skin. It's uncomfortably shrugged together with streaks of white slashing through them. "No, don't cry. Now I understand why uncle Iron never wanted a wife, you're all problems." I smile and touch the scars once more. "Uncle Iron inked his whole body to forget, but Miss Hayes always reminds us that you'll never be able to forget until you forgive. He also wears the colour black, said it symbolises his pain, his entire closet consists of black colours... black boots, clothes, underwear-" "Okay, tiger, storytelling is over." He giggles and grabs my face. "You're my heroine." I smile. "You have a big vocab, don't you?" "Yeah, uncle Iron says it's good manners to be the best." "What else does uncle Iron's say?" "He also said you'd make a great mother." I choke on my saliva, my eyes going wide. "Uncle Iron!" "Hey, big man," Iron grabs a giggling Hunter. "Miss Rosalie and I had a long talk." Iron looks at me, his eyes dilate. "She probably likes you too." I blush and shake my head. "Miss Rosalie, are you okay? You look constipated." "Alright, let's go." "Hum, Iron!" He abruptly stops, his huge muscles flexing. "I'll need those papers back." "I'll send you their ashes."