Arabella

Chapter 6

        Arabella woke up to pounding the next morning. At first she thought it was her head, having indulged in some wine the night before.  She lifted her head slowly and just lay back down. Yup, definitely too much wine. Her throat felt like sandpaper and her head felt like it weighed a ton. To top it all off, the sun was streaming through the window and birds had the nerve to chirp merrily. She hated mornings.

        When the pounding continued even with her not moving, she realized it was coming from her front door. She bolted up in bed and tried to ignore her body’s protests. No one ever came to her place. At most two people knew where she lived. She fumbled to push the blankets off her and tried to stand but the room swirled and she fell onto the floor, tangled in the blankets. Her breath was coming fast, and her heart was in her throat. She tried to think of a spell to cast, but the alcohol she drank the night before had her in a fog. She tried to listen carefully, hoping that whoever it was would just go away.

        She heard the door open and footsteps inside her living room, then turn and head in her direction. She choked back a sob. Home was supposed to be a sacred place where no one could hurt you, and where she could drink a little and be damned the consequences. Her home was being violated, and just like before, she felt helpless. Memories of the past tried to force themselves into her brain, but she fought back and with it her anger rose. Using her anger to fuel her, she untangled her legs and stood up. She headed for the door, when she realized it was too late. The knob was already turning.

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        Ten minutes later coffee was brewing and the bacon was frying to extra crispy.  Arabella watched as he moved around the kitchen, and waited. She didn’t trust herself to speak or move. She kept her hands under the table, trying to hide the shaking. Whether it was from anger or left-over fear, she wasn’t sure yet.

        She had almost blasted Jake, not recognizing him in his street clothes. His dark hair was mussed, his face looked as if hadn’t slept, and his clothes were wrinkled. He didn’t look like the Director of a national, multi-million dollar, not to mention Supernatural, company.  He looked almost…ordinary.

        She watched as he searched through her cupboards for plates, silverware, and cups. After he found everything, he filled a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her, followed by a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon.

            She waited until he sat across from her at the kitchen table before she picked up her fork. She eyed the food speculatively and cautiously brought a bite to her lips  …Yummy! Food was the best way to calm her down and put her in a good mood in general. A man who could cook was icing on any cake.