Loving Mr.Danger

Chapter 12-Hot N'Heavy Part 1- Red red roses

"Light of my life, fire of my loins"- Lolita (movie/book) x

💛Lauren P.O.V💛

The Prescott's house is rustic and small. It has an aura of the countryside...with a porch lining the entranceway. The columns are archaic, as if they existed in Ancient Greece, during the golden age. The stone path is entwined with shadows of the night and the flowers, beautifying the green garden, sway with the wind.

The small country house shrinks in size as we close in on it. Beside me stride mother and father, wearing formal clothing. My mother in a sleek knee length black dress that is right around her figure, father wearing a smart suit.

Alex is absent though... Not in the mood to hang out with her family. Besides there is awkward tension between us, ever since that night.

Mother knocks on the door. Footsteps sound and the door swings open. The man before us is middle aged, with shoulder length ashy hair and a smirk lining his face, wrinkling up his face.

'Levy!' He beams,' I haven't seen you since high school,' he chuckles,' what a wonderful family you have....' His face kits up as a though crosses his mind,' but of course come on in,' he twirls his mustache.

We walk in, transitioning from the brisk air to a warm environment. The walls are illuminated with a yellow glow. The air smells of a wafting slow roasted turkey dinner.

Great... Potatoes again.

We sit down slowly, I squirm in the chair settling in. I clear my throat.

'Um where is your wife?' I ask.

'My wife... Umm she died,' he says, his eyes shining with pain.

'Oh... I'm so sorry,' I answer feeling flushed.

'It was a long time ago...' He said, smiling sweetly. He turns his attention back to my dad.

'So Levy, how's your work been? I heard you have your own business now,' he says.

They start going on and on about their business matters. I stare at my plate, filled only with 2 potatoes and a small amount of salad.

I munch on my food leisurely. Bringing my fingers to the fork I by mistake throw it in the floor, and a large cluttering sound echoes in the room.

'Excuse me,' I apologize.

'It's ok darling... Just be careful with the sound as my son is sleeping upstairs,' he says.

'You have a son?' I ask,' how old is he.'

'24...' He says.

Surprise hits me as a 24 year old would be asleep at 11 o'clock. Most would be at a club or hanging out in the isolated roads.

'He has to wake up at 4 am tomorrow to help his friend with a tournament.'

'Oh...' After a moment of silence I say,' your house is lovely,' I smile.

Malcolm smiles,' my wife decorated it.'

'She seems to have had a beautiful sense of style,' dad says. I take a bite out of my Rosemary spiced baked potatoes.