Chapter 6
1926 Words
CLEO DAWSON
“Cleo, Beatrice would be here in less than ten minutes!”
I knew I was supposed to be excited. If not for anything but simply because there was so excitement in my dad’s voice as he talked about Beatrice. But I just couldn’t.
The idea of her wasn’t making me excited. And it all went down to no one but her son and my step brother to be, Ash.
I let out a sigh as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. No matter how much I hated it, I still had to go ahead with it. And that involved me looking at least, decent.
I was dressed in a yellow gown reaching my knee. Yellow was never really a color I fancied but since the whole event wasn’t really my choice, it was simply matching the theme. My hair was hung loosely around my shoulders and my face begged to be dolled up- all it got was a light lip gloss.
“Cleo, she’s here!”
How did ten minutes go by that quickly?
With another sigh, he looked around my room and spotted my phone laying on my bed. Picking it up with the plan of staring at it the entire time at dinner, I nodded to myself and stepped out of my room, my heartbeat immediately quickening.
God, i was nervous. For reasons I knew I wasn’t supposed to be.
With extremely slow steps, I walked down the stairs. No matter how slow I was I couldn’t take forever though as in barely a minute, I found myself at the dining, three figures all in front of me.
“Come sit, Cleo.”
Reminding myself to be as polite and natural as possible, I plastered a fake smile on my face and looked up in Beatrice’s direction. Like she was already waiting for me, she was also staring, a smile on her face.
“Hi, Beatrice.”
“Hello, darling,” her voice was cheerful as ever making a feel a tad bit of guilt. “How are you? I’m so sorry you couldn’t meet me at home when you went over. I had some urgent work matters to take care of.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” my fake smile deepened. “I understand.”
“I trust Ash made you comfortable though, right?”
Ash.
I immediately looked in his direction to catch him already staring at me. My breath hitched as I involuntarily checked him out. He was dressed in a denim ripped jacket with a white t-shirt underneath. His lips were pursed, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me like I was the only person in the room.
Christ.
Feeling color creep towards my cheeks, I immediately looked away and returned my attention to Beatrice. “Yes, he did. I was very comfortable.”
Not daring to look up at him again, I plastered my gaze to my plate. A couple more interactions went on and shortly afterwards, everyone began their meals and I did the same.
It had to be the first time pasta felt so bland. My dad was naturally a good cook but for the first time since their early divorce days, I could swear the food tasted no different to paper.
Regardless, I sent several bites down my throat, forcing myself to chew and then swallow them. It was the best and only way I could keep myself distracted and focus on the nonexistent taste of the food rather than a certain dark eyed boy.
“Cleo?”
I raised my head to meet my dad staring at me with worrisome eyes. Suddenly nervous, i twirled another strand of pasta around my fork and replied him. “Yes?”
“Are you not hungry?” He asked me, the worry filled in his voice. “Or does the food not taste good enough?”
“Oh, no,” I quickly shook my head. “It tastes amazing. And I am hungry.”
“Are you sure?” He didn’t seem convinced. “You can tell me if something’s wrong with the food. Beatrice-“
“No, dear,” Beatrice said to him warmly. “It tastes amazing. I mean, look at my plate. All cleared up. Was going to ask you for the recipe to it in fact.”
“Oh, really?” That seemed to cheer my dad up. “Well, it’s a secret.”
Beatrice giggled. “Tell me then. No secrets between us, remember?”
“Well,” my dad replied her then stretched his hand forward to take her hands in his. “Come with me then.”
She blushed then rose to her feet, watching him lead the way out of the dining. Forgetting they were not the only ones present, they walked out of the dining hand to hand, giddy and filled with obvious excitement.
A soft sigh escaped my lips as I watched them leave the room. They looked so happy. My dad looked so happy and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him that happy.
He deserved it though. He deserved all of the happiness in the world after what he had gone through with my mum and i in no way had the right to ruin that happiness for him.
“So are you usually this quiet or is this just a facade you put on around me?”
“What?”
I looked up to meet Ash staring at me like he had been doing for what seemed like forever. His arms were now folded, eyebrows arched as he impatiently demanded an answer from me.
Pretending I didn’t hear him, I resumed twirling my pasta around my fork, the pasta doing a good job at making a mockery out of me.
“There you are doing it again,” he spoke up again. “Are you really quiet? Being quiet doesn’t prevent you from answering my question. You do know that, right?”
“I am just a quiet person,” I finally replied him with a deep exhale. “It’s no facade. I just don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Why don’t i believe you then?”
“What?” I was taken aback for a second. “Well, that’s a you problem. Believing me or not has nothing to do with me.”
I resumed twirling the pasta on my fork and when I finally sent it into my mouth, felt it taste even worse than it previously did.
With a mental groan, I looked up to realize Ash was still staring at me.
Great.
I couldn’t do this. Not at that moment. Not anytime soon.
Dropping my cutlery, I rose to my feet and took a stepped backwards. Watching Ash stare at me with an arched eyebrow, I ignored him and turned to head to the kitchen. Not like I had anything important to do there anyways. I just needed to be away from him.
“Cleo.”
I ignored him and continued walking towards the kitchen. I could hear him call out to me again but i ignored him again, only for me to hear him get up from his seat to begin following me.
“Cleo.”
“Stay away from me,” I breathed out as I walked towards the kitchen counter, grabbing the closest glass cup in my view. “Stop following me.”
“Then you should stop running away from me.”
I shook my head and just as I was about to reach for the tap to fill the glass with water, felt his hand around my arm, twirling me around to face him and the process, sending the glass cup to the floor to shatter into a thousand pieces.
“I told you to stop running from me,” he hissed, watching the broken glass litter the floor. “See now?”
A light gasp escaped my lips and I knew it wasn’t out of shock from the glass breaking. It was out of shock and fear of him suddenly being so close to me.
I swallowed and tried to take a step backwards from him only to have him immediately take another one towards me. My heartbeat immediately quickened, my throat getting dry as my eyes began to roam around the kitchen to focus on anything but him.
“Look at me.”
I shut my eyes and shook my head, desperately hoping he would go away. I needed everything happening to be a dream. He couldn’t be that close to me. He shouldn’t be that close to me.
But it wasn’t a dream, his cold skin touching mine serving as more than enough reminder.
“Look at me.”
He repeated his words and raised his hand to lift my chin until my gaze was now on him. I immediately felt hot and uncomfortable but still couldn’t bring myself to look away from him.
There was only very little distance between us and it with every second that passed, it seemed to be shortening, just like my breath.
“Why are you avoiding me?” He said to me slowly. “Why are you running away from me?”
“I’m not,” I dared to lie to him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“Yet you can’t even look into my eyes and say that.”
I swallowed again, sending my gaze to the floor immediately. I couldn’t look at him. Not with so little distance between us. Not with so many wrong thoughts running through my mind.
“Is it because of what you saw the other day?” He asked me again, my eyes slowly widening. “Because you walked in on me and my girlfriend?”
I felt a lump develop in my throat. His girlfriend. “N-no. That’s not it.”
“So there actually is something,” I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Oh, that it is. Deny it all you want, I can see through you.”
“N-no.”
“Does it repulse you?” He spoke up again, lifting my chin so i look directly at him again. “Does that scene repulse you? Do you hate it? Do you hate me for it?”
“I know girls like you,” his fingers slowly began to trail down my chin. “You have this good girl image you’ve created and try to maintain. You always try to seem prim and proper and just look perfect on the outside. That’s the image you’re building for yourself and you try your best to make sure nothing ruins it. But all of a sudden, you’re told you’ll be having a brother who doesn’t exactly suit that image. Who is far from what you’ve been expecting. To put it in your terms, who is a bad boy. “
I wanted to push him away. To stop him from talking to me. To stop him from touching me.
But his words were oddly like music to my eyes- sweet and addictive, his touch magical enough to erupt several butterflies in my belly all at once.
So I remained in that position, allowing his fingers slowly trace my skin and remind me of how wrong it all was to be.
“So tell me, does it repulse you? Does the thought of having a brother like me repulse you?”
“Do i repulse you?”
- Writer
