"I warned you, Kristina," he said, leaning closer to me, his hand scorching my wrist, his silver eyes darkening to a stormy grey. "I told you what would happen if you defied me."
Fire was racing up and down my arm. The rose necklace burned at my thr...
Song: The Jewel Song from the opera Faust. (Yes, it's in French, but there are English subtitles).
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~ Kriss Darcy ~
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The room looked the same as it had when I left for the city a year ago; it was tidy, clear of any dust, the floorboards vacuumed and mopped. The four-poster bed pushed against the wall opposite the door was made, the red quilt draping off on either side, the curtains on the posts open. The bookshelves scattered around the room were half-full, the rest either in the boxes Mr. Abrams had brought up or were still at my apartment in the city.
The boxes were resting at the foot of the bed; I grabbed one and lifted it onto the quilt, ruffling the bedspread, but I didn't care. I needed to unpack, even if I ended up deciding to stay only until after the masquerade. I had a compulsion to make myself at home, and unpacking my things would help to do that.
I had about an hour before I had to go downstairs for dinner, and I didn't really want to look like I'd spent the day in a car, so before I began unpacking, I grabbed a fresh set of clothes and went into my bathroom. I softly closing the door behind me and locking it, just in case Megan decided to pay me a visit. Not that she'd never seen me naked before, but it was also less awkward when you were ten years old and hadn't yet hit puberty.
I set the clothes on the counter next to the sink and turned on the shower, stripping off my clothes while I waited for the water to heat up. There was also a bathtub in the bathroom, next to the shower, but I wasn't the biggest fan of baths. A lot of people, including Megan, found them relaxing, but not me. If anything, they set me more on edge and left me alone with my thoughts, which more often than not ended up leading to thinking about that devastating morning when Mother came into my room, sobbing, and told me that Father had died.
I stepped into the shower, wincing as the scathing spray soaked me. I had turned the heat up too high. I reached for the valve, turning it down a bit. Much better. I began to relax, as if I could wash away the stressful events of today. Almost dying, pulling Megan away from Carl, that awkward conversation with Mother...
