Scarlet Resurrection

Sparks

The sound of rain pattering against the window was softer when Scarlet woke up. The nightlight on her bedside table had been turned on, and the dim light cast shadows around the room.

She slowly turned her head from side to side, and was relieved to find that sleeping had reduced the throbbing pain to a dull headache. The curtains had been opened, and Scarlet stared at the droplets of rain forming outside the floor-length windows. It was the perfect weather to cuddle up under the sheets.

Sighing, she grabbed the pillow on Adrian’s side of the bed and hugged it tightly. She felt numb, thinking about how she could never again feel his warm body next to hers. Burying her face in the pillow, Scarlet imagined herself hugging him, but the pillow felt cold against her face. She jumped at the sound of a soft knock on her bedroom door.

“Come in,” she called out.

Michael walked in, with a glass of juice in his hand. He set the juice down on the bedside table and scanned Scarlet’s face.

“You look worn out,” he observed.

“Yeah. I am having a migraine.” she whispered, sitting up in bed with a pillow propped behind her head. She picked up the glass of juice and sipped it slowly. It was freshly squeezed orange juice which had been blended with ice. The drink was refreshing, and Scarlet smiled up at Michael in appreciation.

“Sit.” she said, nodding towards the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind standing.” he said, shifting his feet.

Scarlet shot him a wounded look, which made him sigh. He sat down on the edge of the bed, barely resting his weight on it. Scarlet could not help but laugh at the uncomfortable position he had taken up.

She nudged him with her foot. “Sit properly. You might fall down.” Seemingly annoyed by her amusement, he moved slightly, sitting in a more relaxed position.

“I have asked Martin to drop off some groceries tomorrow, you’re running low on eggs.” he mumbled.

“Aah yes. We can’t have that, can we? What will I eat for breakfast if we run out of eggs?” she teased.

“You’re in a really good mood for someone who is having a migraine.”

Scarlet grinned at him, enjoying his mock annoyed expression. He was back to his warm personality, and she was thankful for the change.

“So, chef Michael, what are we having for dinner?”

“I ordered food. Do you like spaghetti aglio olio?” he asked.

“The perfect food for this weather,” Scarlet said, standing up. She walked into the closet, and picked out a cashmere robe, and put it on. Tying the sash around her waist, she walked out of the bedroom with Michael trailing after her.

Michael had transferred the food from the takeaway containers onto plates, and had neatly arranged a napkin and fork beside each plate. He sat down at the counter and stared at her quizzically as she walked past the counter towards the refrigerator. Opening the door, she picked out a bottle of wine, and walked back to sit down next to him.

“I don't drink on the job.”

“First of all, this isn’t for you. I’ll be drinking this. And second of all, you’re not working right now. We are holed up in this mansion together. You should learn to relax!” she said happily, uncorking the bottle and taking a large swig of wine.

Adrian had stopped her from drinking, ever since she had started getting drunk every night after trying wine for the first time. But the refrigerator was always stocked with a bottle or two, as Adrian had enjoyed an occasional glass with dinner.

Scarlet giggled naughtily. Michael did not know about Adrian’s rules and she was finally free to enjoy her wine. Scarlet ate her dinner in silence, giggling occasionally and drinking from the bottle with each bite.

Michael shot her amused looks each time she giggled, but let her enjoy her meal in silence.

Scarlet finished her food before he did, and turned around to face him. She smiled lazily at him, and watched him eat the last of his food.

“You know, you have a really nice face,” she said, staring at his jawline.

Michael looked at her, startled by her remark. Seeing her lazy smile, he realized that she was properly drunk on wine. He looked at the empty bottle on the counter and sighed.

“Let’s get you to bed.” he said, getting up from the stool.

“No!” she shouted petulantly.

“Please, ma’am. You need to sleep.” he said calmingly.

“Don’t call me ma’am. You have seen me cry. People who have seen me cry are automatically granted permission to call me Scarlet.” she said, swishing her finger in the air, as if she was granting a wish.

“Okay, Scarlet. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I think I’m drunk.” Scarlet said, standing up and grabbing Michael’s hand.

Rolling his eyes at her, he lifted her up in his arms, knowing that she was too drunk to walk up the stairs.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” Scarlet muttered against his neck. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, as if holding on for dear life.

Michael walked up the stairs and into her bedroom, heading towards the bed.

“Wait!” she yelled, causing Michael to wince and stop in his tracks.

“Sorry. Wait.” she whispered softly, realising that she had yelled in his ear. “I need to brush my teeth.”

Scarlet widened her eyes, and pouted, trying to act cute. Michael rolled his eyes again, and walked towards the bathroom. He sat her down on the sink counter and stepped away. Scarlet picked up a white toothbrush and sloppily put toothpaste on it, and started brushing her teeth. Sensing Michael staring at her, she grinned with her mouth full of toothpaste.

“Do you want to brush your teeth” she mumbled, barely coherently. Michael shook his head. She turned her head and spit in the sink. “You will get cavities if you don’t brush your teeth,” she said solemnly. “Here, you can use my toothbrush. I’m using Adrian’s.”

Scarlet lurched forward to hand him the toothbrush, and Michael quickly stepped towards the sink and grabbed it. She stared at him until he reluctantly started brushing his teeth. Nodding happily, she went back to vigorously brushing her teeth.

Rinsing his mouth and the brush, Michael gently took the brush in Scarlet’s hand and guided her head towards the sink. He brought water to her mouth and helped her rinse the toothpaste out. It felt wrongly intimate to help Scarlet, but he reasoned with himself as she was drunk.

Picking her up from the counter, he walked back to the bed. He made her stand on the floor as he untied the sash of her robe. The rain, which had been softly pattering against the window, suddenly began pelting against the window.

As he slid the robe down her shoulders and past her arms, Scarlet pressed her lips against his neck. Michael immediately stiffened, and let the robe drop onto the floor. He felt her lips trail kisses along his neck towards his ear, and he could not help but let out a low groan.

Scarlet ran her tongue along his ear, and bit down on the lobe. She started unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers moving quickly. Michael grabbed her hands and pushed her away gently, breathing heavily.

Scarlet looked at him and saw the barely contained look of hunger in his eyes. She moved towards him and pressed her lips against his, fumbling with the remaining buttons on his shirt. After a moment of hesitation, Michael started kissing her back.