The winter air pierced her skin through her coat. She stumbled down the sidewalk, tripping over your boots that were a size too big. It was a small, quiet neighborhood. Nothing out of the of the ordinary. She was coming home from work, taking a shortcut this time. Dark clouds flew overhead in the midnight sky. By this time, a lot of the houses were black inside, except for the lone manor on top the hill.
Rain started pouring down on her. It was cold, wet, stuck to her skin. All her clothes will be soaked by the time she gets home. She ran down the dark pathway, when a man came strolling out the front gates of the manor. His hair was like summer strawberries, and his eyes blue lapis gems.
"Hello dearie," the gentleman said with a strong British accent, "Oh no, you'll be soaked out here. Come inside for the night, we'll fix you up."
His white smile glinted in the street lights. You really should be going home, but you live alone anyway. But should she trust him? He seems like a gentleman, and this lady always have a can of pepper spray with her just in case something happens. And it's absolutely freezing outside.
Her hands entwined with his, they were extraordinarily soft for a man. He led her to the front doors, and the house looked even prettier the closer she got to it.
"My name is Oliver. Oliver Kirkland. I am living with my boyfriend and my two sons. You'll love them. We will give you a tour." Oliver smiled, "We welcome you to our humble abode."
The front doors opened to a grand staircase and large halls streaming far into the mansion. Two blondes stood inside, waiting. The one had his hair tied back, and was wearing black mirrored sunglasses. The second, much older looking one, slouched with half a cigarette in his hand.
"This is my son Matthew, who prefers to be called Matt. And my boyfriend Francis. Be careful, he's a little tipsy."
Matt nodded his head toward the young lady, she could see his toned muscles through his red plaid shirt. Francis simply stood and stared. He even looked disgusted at her presence being in his home.
Oliver lets go of her hand and she sees the slow tension build up inside him.
"Al! Get down here!" He roared through gritted teeth, "A guest is here."
Suddenly, a brunette was sliding down of of the stair railings. He also had sunglasses but they sat on top his head. A smirk ran across his face as he stepped up to meet her.
"Well, she's a pretty one. How long will we have her?"
"Just for the night, it isn't safe for a young lady like her to be walking around at this time in this weather," Oliver responded.
The man by the name of Matt walks closer to her. His face inches from hers. She gets her hand ready to grab the pepper spray.
"I'll show her to her room." Matt said with a heavy Canadian French accent.
