she feels it underneath her skin.
Oggetto
| go ahead, you're taking me down now |
.
The tea is hot, scalding even.
She takes a tentative first sip even as smoke rises from the teacup and into her eyes, covering the tip of her nose with a sheen of moisture (it burns her tongue, makes her mouth feel numb for a second).
"My brother is having you followed." She places the cup back on her kitchen island, crosses her hands in front of her and waits for her words to register.
There is calm silence that follows for a second, maybe two.
When she meets his eyes, she sees the subtle outrage brewing in them. His lips form a thin line, his nose twitches and she pouts her lips, trying not to laugh – he's displeased.
"What?"
She takes another sip of tea, still hot and yet much more manageable than the first. It keeps her from doing what she really wants, which is roll her eyes.
"My brother hired a private investigator to follow you around." She repeats, slower.
Her sister had told her yesterday, not that the woman had seemed particularly bothered by the fact.
And, to be fair, she's not exactly surprised herself.
It's not like it's the first time someone in their family hired a private investigator to follow someone around, especially not a suitor. If it hadn't been her brother, it would have been her father or her mother or maybe even her sister if someone hadn't done it already.
"You don't seem particularly disturbed by this."
"I'm not." When she looks at him once more, he's calm, relaxed, leveled. "Money breeds paranoia and my family has a lot of both."
"I'm sure you understand why I'm not exactly thrilled." He says it smoothly and finally takes his own sip of tea. It won't burn anymore.
"I'm telling you not because I think they'll find anything about your…. extra-curricular activities." She snorts at the thought, wonders if they could even understand, piece it together. "But I would hold off on meeting your other lady friends for the time being."
God, if her brother found out, if he even suspected that she was being played by an eighteen-year-old pretty boy –
"I'll make sure not to jeopardize our future or the image your family has of me." And there's the hint of a smile on his lips. "Besides, you know you're the only one I like to spend time with."
She tilts her head, curious.
"I know." She says instead, but –
"How was work?" He asks, with a raised eyebrow and it's so painfully mundane that she can't help the chuckle that escapes her lips.
He answers with a smile of his own, as if next to his elbow there's isn't a notebook that can kill people, as if there isn't a Death God sitting crossed-legged on her couch, watching TV and already halfway through the apples he'd brought here after school.
She loses her train of thought as they discuss the monotony of every day life, tension easing as they both fall into their usual rhythm. He's relaxed and attentive, pours her another cup of tea when she's done with the first one and she, well –
Our future.
(she feels it underneath her skin, something dark and consuming and destructive that leaves her breathless, she wants to run away and forget she ever met him, but there is no escape here, no happily ever after, no, this is a fairy tale, a true one, that ends with death and mayhem, and the one left standing will be the one holding the bloodied knife)
She's not sure anymore, of anything.
a/n : Gosh, has it already been that long since I updated Oggetto? Thank you for sticking with me and for your lovely reviews, they are much appreciated and encourage me a lot. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you thought. take care and stay safe.