Kirika lay motionless on our bed like a princess, with her silky uneven hair spreading on the sheets like the black threads of fate. A fate even Alice would find strange; here I am with my family's killer after we fought for our lives against a woman madder than the Queen of Hearts herself, Altena. However my wonder lay well grounded in reality. I do wonder what would have been my life without her? who knows? Maybe living the life in Paris but without any real attachment or meaning. The usual Mireille? feeling the fine leather on another expensive bag, licking my lips on another delicious strawberry tart, sipping coffee watching couples stroll along while I wait to hit on my target. Coffee? Tea? I remember!
The tea lay cold in Kirika's cup on the pool table rather half neglected and unfinished like her bare left shoulder. In haste I covered her shoulder with my blanket and wandered in the kitchen, with an electric jug of hot water. I can't believe we used to use the kettle, how backward, perhaps even vulgar. Slowly I pour the hot water into Kirika's cup in a careful and tender fashion. "Arrgh" I forgot to add extra matcha so for now her cup is very mild. It's barely tea, but luckily I remember where the matcha was. The matcha Kirika had was practically made in heaven, well for her at least. Being a French woman I like my tea with a more misty fragrance. Lemon will be nice!
"But this isn't the time for tea! This is the time for bed." I said to myself. It is getting late, even the moonlit shadows of the stray cats are meshing into the night. Besides I've brushed my teeth as I put on my nightgown. As I yawned and lay on my mattress I peered at Kirika, peaceful as she ever was. Brushing with death, brushing with sorrow, no rubbing the salt in those wounds will interrupt her. Kirika is a night owl, she likes a nap till midnight before waking up to browse her laptop. I'm not sure what her guilty pleasures are, as long as she doesn't give away our identity. Her identity, does it really matter? "Bedtime Mireille, bed time. Let's sleep" I whispered to myself. Gently I lay my forefinger on a loose strand of her little princess hair and crouched slowly before her face. Softly I blew onto her tender cheeks, blending sweetly into her petite breaths. "Good night Kirika, Good night"