Chapter Two:
The sun was barely shining when the lights to Fiona's room woke her up. The flash automatically weakened her eyes as she rolled on to her stomach and
groaned.
"Good morning," Mort spoke casually, "I see you're up."
"Now I am," she murmured as she allowed a yawn to escape her lips. She
pushed herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her
hair.
"Why did you do that?" her voice croaked with sleepiness and her eyes were
now adjusting to the sharpness of the light.
"For starters," he grinned and leaned against the door frame, tilting his head, "I need to show you around the house, so it seems you forgot about that. Not to mention I have a story to write..." he crossed his arms over his
chest, "So if you don't mind I'd like to get a head start on the day."
"Well," Fiona retorted, "I do," she lay back on the bed and closed her
eyes, still halfway asleep.
"Well, well, well, isn't someone cranky today?" the sarcasm in his voice slapped her hard as she played it off and rolled to her side, placing her
feet on the steady ground.
"That's more like it, what would you like for breakfast?" Mort stood
straight once more, prepared to walk from the room.
"I don't care," she moaned softly standing to her feet. All she cared about
at the moment was her beauty rest.
"Alright," he grinned sheepishly, "come downstairs when you're ready, and that doesn't mean go back to sleep for three hours," he added as he began
to walk away.
Fiona rolled her eyes and glanced around the large room that she made 'her'
bedroom.
There was a lock on the door, wasn't there?
"Two or three?" Mort scooped two pancakes on the spatula and slapped them
on the plate before her.
"One," she spoke emotionlessly as she shifted in her chair uncomfortably.
She tucked her feet under her body and sipped on the orange juice.
Mort picked one pancake up with his fingers and placed it on his plate.
Fiona's eyebrows narrowed as the only sound through out the kitchen was
that of the bottom of her juice hitting the surface of the table.
"Any lucky men in your life?" Mort broke the awkward silence with an awkward question as he pulled his chair out and took a seat, the bottom of
the chair squealing against the cold white tiles.
Fiona cleared her throat and watched him soak his three pancakes with
syrup, "Actually, no...there was one."
He was surprised that she didn't shoot an 'it is none of your business' comment towards him, but he questioned her after dabbing his mouth with his
napkin, "Oh...so what happened to the 'one'?"
"Is that any of your business?" she shot heavily, her pancakes left
untouched.
Mort smirked and shook his head while continuing to eat, "Figures..." his
breath was slow and steady.
Fiona ignored the comment and licked her lips, "Honestly he left me for
another woman," her eyes remained turned from Mort's.
They both heard clicking noises and watched as Chico made his way in the
kitchen.
"Chico," Mort greeted with a large smile, "Hey boy, hungry?" Mort stood
from his chair and made his way to the cabinet, searching for the doggy
dish.
"Let me guess," Fiona spoke with sarcasm as she finally dug into her food,
"you let the dog sleep in, but woke me up?"
Mort chuckled under his breath as he pulled some wet dog food from the
cabinet, "Correct...Chico had a rough night last night."
"Right," Fiona paid no attention to his bizarre explanation, but continued to watch Mort as he placed the bowl of soft food on the ground, "There you
go boy."
Chico immediately began to eat the dog food, chucking it all down in four
or five gulps.
"So, about this man," Mort walked back over to his seat and began to eat his food once more as the dog's smacking and swallowing echoed through out
the kitchen.
Fiona placed her fork on her plate, "The man was Ted."
Mort cocked an eyebrow and cleared his throat after a long pause, "Oh..."
Fiona instantly noticed the uncomfortable silence as she took a deep
breath, "Yeah. He left me for Amy."
"Well," Mort replied, shrugging his shoulders softly, "Look at it this way,
Ted was with Amy, and now...you're with me."
Fiona stood from her seat, "Fuck you Mort."
"Sorry, but that'd be against my morals," not once did he look up as Fiona stomped her foot in frustration and stormed from the kitchen, mumbling to
herself, "What morals could that man possibly have?"
Mort leaned over the table a moment and took a hold of the plate, placing it on the floor, "Here you go Chico, she doesn't know good food when she
smells it."
Chico quickly rushed over to gobble the left over pancakes that were
covered with only butter.
Fiona pulled her long black hair back in a high ponytail and stared at her
reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes were large pools and could soak anything into them. She had to admit that she took her looks for advantage. Her body was in the perfect
shape and her hair matched her beautiful toned skin.
Grabbing on to the bottle in her smaller duffle bag, she pulled her prescribed bottle from inside. She dumped two small red pills in her hand
and threw her head back, tossing the medication on her tongue.
After swallowing the pills and washing them down with a handful of water, Fiona noticed she only had two more left. That would only last her until
tomorrow afternoon.
She took her mind from her worries and thought back to Mort, a sensation
filling her stomach, most likely butterflies.
This was the right time to try and get Mort. And Mort, she would get.
Not because she wanted to kill him or torture him, but because she had
always been in 'love' with Mort ever since Amy introduced the two.
Back then, however, Mort was more of a gentleman, more trimmed, and
definitely more untouchable.
She had to make it seem as if she hated his guts, then when the time was
right, he'd be hers and only hers.
Her eyes remained glued to the smile that was spread across her face and
her bright white teeth glistened in the mirror.
"Fiona," Mort interrupted her visual as he knocked on the side of the wall
and poked his head inside the open door, "Come on, I need to show you
around, we're wasting precious writing time."
Fiona chuckled at his insistence, but nodded, turning around and facing
him, "Then why don't you go write and allow me to explore by myself?"
Mort stared at her sternly. Her eyebrow was cocked, and her face tilted a bit to the side. He shook his head slowly, "Because you are not 'exploring'
my house without me."
Fiona rolled her eyes and walked past him quickly, brushing against his
shoulder.
Mort nudged back a bit from her physical touch, but shook his head slowly.
What could he possibly do with her?
Walking behind her slowly, he pulled his black wool sweater down and placed his hands in his dark denim blue jeans. His eyes trailed all down her back
side, licking his lips.
She suddenly turned around causing his eyes to avert quickly to hers, "So..." she shrugged softly and folded her arms over her bosom, "...lets start with
that room over there."
Mort quickly walked past her, "I know that, that's where we were going," his back was turned to her as she gave him an evil stare, but continued to
follow him.
"This is mine and Amy's bedroom," his eyes worked their way around the messy room, "don't even think about going in there," staring deeply into
her eyes, she knew he was serious.
"Why would I even?" she asked sarcastically as he pulled the door closed and walked past her, "Over here is..." he opened the door to another room, "is obviously your bedroom for right now anyways," he didn't once look back
at her.
Fiona felt he was hiding something. She could tell by his movements that he
was keeping something a secret.
"This," he pointed to the desk that was right next to the edge of the stairs, and pushed against the fence of the balcony, "is MY writing desk, so basically another thing of MINE, so don't touch anything on MY desk."
Fiona licked her lips slowly and smirked, "You are such an asshole, you
know that?"
"With pride," he replied walking down the stairs, the steps creaking every
now and then.
Fiona didn't feel like having a tour, she felt like relaxing on the couch with Mort's head in her lap and her fingers glazing his scalp. Her heart
began to beat faster at the thought.
"Are you coming or not?" Mort shot a bit loudly.
Fiona placed her hands on her hips, "Yes, damn..." she gave a loud sigh and
continued to watch him as he walked, "You know you're way around down stairs already, all I want to show you is the cornfield," his eyes perked
up when he mentioned it.
Fiona noticed his sudden change of mood as he walked out onto the front
porch and pulled the screen door that led to the back open, "Here is my corn field, no one can pick corn from it but ME." He emphasized the word
'me' once more as his eyes drifted over the large field of crops.
"Right..." Fiona giggled a bit as she shifted on the porch and wrapped her arms around her waist, sucking in a deep breath, "...is that all? It's a bit
chilly out here."
"Yeah, that's it," Mort concluded as he ran his fingers through his hair
and faced the house once more, "I have to get to work anyways."
Fiona's eyes followed Mort's every move as if he were her prey. She walked behind him ever so slowly, amazed by his beauty. Never in her life had she
felt so certain.
She suddenly began to feel as if she were lucky to escape the hospital, the
hospital that they tortured her in, the mean, horrible, vicious doctors
with their long needles and taunting machines.
But most of all she escaped the tight, sweaty, and uncomfortable white
jackets.
The sun was barely shining when the lights to Fiona's room woke her up. The flash automatically weakened her eyes as she rolled on to her stomach and
groaned.
"Good morning," Mort spoke casually, "I see you're up."
"Now I am," she murmured as she allowed a yawn to escape her lips. She
pushed herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her
hair.
"Why did you do that?" her voice croaked with sleepiness and her eyes were
now adjusting to the sharpness of the light.
"For starters," he grinned and leaned against the door frame, tilting his head, "I need to show you around the house, so it seems you forgot about that. Not to mention I have a story to write..." he crossed his arms over his
chest, "So if you don't mind I'd like to get a head start on the day."
"Well," Fiona retorted, "I do," she lay back on the bed and closed her
eyes, still halfway asleep.
"Well, well, well, isn't someone cranky today?" the sarcasm in his voice slapped her hard as she played it off and rolled to her side, placing her
feet on the steady ground.
"That's more like it, what would you like for breakfast?" Mort stood
straight once more, prepared to walk from the room.
"I don't care," she moaned softly standing to her feet. All she cared about
at the moment was her beauty rest.
"Alright," he grinned sheepishly, "come downstairs when you're ready, and that doesn't mean go back to sleep for three hours," he added as he began
to walk away.
Fiona rolled her eyes and glanced around the large room that she made 'her'
bedroom.
There was a lock on the door, wasn't there?
"Two or three?" Mort scooped two pancakes on the spatula and slapped them
on the plate before her.
"One," she spoke emotionlessly as she shifted in her chair uncomfortably.
She tucked her feet under her body and sipped on the orange juice.
Mort picked one pancake up with his fingers and placed it on his plate.
Fiona's eyebrows narrowed as the only sound through out the kitchen was
that of the bottom of her juice hitting the surface of the table.
"Any lucky men in your life?" Mort broke the awkward silence with an awkward question as he pulled his chair out and took a seat, the bottom of
the chair squealing against the cold white tiles.
Fiona cleared her throat and watched him soak his three pancakes with
syrup, "Actually, no...there was one."
He was surprised that she didn't shoot an 'it is none of your business' comment towards him, but he questioned her after dabbing his mouth with his
napkin, "Oh...so what happened to the 'one'?"
"Is that any of your business?" she shot heavily, her pancakes left
untouched.
Mort smirked and shook his head while continuing to eat, "Figures..." his
breath was slow and steady.
Fiona ignored the comment and licked her lips, "Honestly he left me for
another woman," her eyes remained turned from Mort's.
They both heard clicking noises and watched as Chico made his way in the
kitchen.
"Chico," Mort greeted with a large smile, "Hey boy, hungry?" Mort stood
from his chair and made his way to the cabinet, searching for the doggy
dish.
"Let me guess," Fiona spoke with sarcasm as she finally dug into her food,
"you let the dog sleep in, but woke me up?"
Mort chuckled under his breath as he pulled some wet dog food from the
cabinet, "Correct...Chico had a rough night last night."
"Right," Fiona paid no attention to his bizarre explanation, but continued to watch Mort as he placed the bowl of soft food on the ground, "There you
go boy."
Chico immediately began to eat the dog food, chucking it all down in four
or five gulps.
"So, about this man," Mort walked back over to his seat and began to eat his food once more as the dog's smacking and swallowing echoed through out
the kitchen.
Fiona placed her fork on her plate, "The man was Ted."
Mort cocked an eyebrow and cleared his throat after a long pause, "Oh..."
Fiona instantly noticed the uncomfortable silence as she took a deep
breath, "Yeah. He left me for Amy."
"Well," Mort replied, shrugging his shoulders softly, "Look at it this way,
Ted was with Amy, and now...you're with me."
Fiona stood from her seat, "Fuck you Mort."
"Sorry, but that'd be against my morals," not once did he look up as Fiona stomped her foot in frustration and stormed from the kitchen, mumbling to
herself, "What morals could that man possibly have?"
Mort leaned over the table a moment and took a hold of the plate, placing it on the floor, "Here you go Chico, she doesn't know good food when she
smells it."
Chico quickly rushed over to gobble the left over pancakes that were
covered with only butter.
Fiona pulled her long black hair back in a high ponytail and stared at her
reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes were large pools and could soak anything into them. She had to admit that she took her looks for advantage. Her body was in the perfect
shape and her hair matched her beautiful toned skin.
Grabbing on to the bottle in her smaller duffle bag, she pulled her prescribed bottle from inside. She dumped two small red pills in her hand
and threw her head back, tossing the medication on her tongue.
After swallowing the pills and washing them down with a handful of water, Fiona noticed she only had two more left. That would only last her until
tomorrow afternoon.
She took her mind from her worries and thought back to Mort, a sensation
filling her stomach, most likely butterflies.
This was the right time to try and get Mort. And Mort, she would get.
Not because she wanted to kill him or torture him, but because she had
always been in 'love' with Mort ever since Amy introduced the two.
Back then, however, Mort was more of a gentleman, more trimmed, and
definitely more untouchable.
She had to make it seem as if she hated his guts, then when the time was
right, he'd be hers and only hers.
Her eyes remained glued to the smile that was spread across her face and
her bright white teeth glistened in the mirror.
"Fiona," Mort interrupted her visual as he knocked on the side of the wall
and poked his head inside the open door, "Come on, I need to show you
around, we're wasting precious writing time."
Fiona chuckled at his insistence, but nodded, turning around and facing
him, "Then why don't you go write and allow me to explore by myself?"
Mort stared at her sternly. Her eyebrow was cocked, and her face tilted a bit to the side. He shook his head slowly, "Because you are not 'exploring'
my house without me."
Fiona rolled her eyes and walked past him quickly, brushing against his
shoulder.
Mort nudged back a bit from her physical touch, but shook his head slowly.
What could he possibly do with her?
Walking behind her slowly, he pulled his black wool sweater down and placed his hands in his dark denim blue jeans. His eyes trailed all down her back
side, licking his lips.
She suddenly turned around causing his eyes to avert quickly to hers, "So..." she shrugged softly and folded her arms over her bosom, "...lets start with
that room over there."
Mort quickly walked past her, "I know that, that's where we were going," his back was turned to her as she gave him an evil stare, but continued to
follow him.
"This is mine and Amy's bedroom," his eyes worked their way around the messy room, "don't even think about going in there," staring deeply into
her eyes, she knew he was serious.
"Why would I even?" she asked sarcastically as he pulled the door closed and walked past her, "Over here is..." he opened the door to another room, "is obviously your bedroom for right now anyways," he didn't once look back
at her.
Fiona felt he was hiding something. She could tell by his movements that he
was keeping something a secret.
"This," he pointed to the desk that was right next to the edge of the stairs, and pushed against the fence of the balcony, "is MY writing desk, so basically another thing of MINE, so don't touch anything on MY desk."
Fiona licked her lips slowly and smirked, "You are such an asshole, you
know that?"
"With pride," he replied walking down the stairs, the steps creaking every
now and then.
Fiona didn't feel like having a tour, she felt like relaxing on the couch with Mort's head in her lap and her fingers glazing his scalp. Her heart
began to beat faster at the thought.
"Are you coming or not?" Mort shot a bit loudly.
Fiona placed her hands on her hips, "Yes, damn..." she gave a loud sigh and
continued to watch him as he walked, "You know you're way around down stairs already, all I want to show you is the cornfield," his eyes perked
up when he mentioned it.
Fiona noticed his sudden change of mood as he walked out onto the front
porch and pulled the screen door that led to the back open, "Here is my corn field, no one can pick corn from it but ME." He emphasized the word
'me' once more as his eyes drifted over the large field of crops.
"Right..." Fiona giggled a bit as she shifted on the porch and wrapped her arms around her waist, sucking in a deep breath, "...is that all? It's a bit
chilly out here."
"Yeah, that's it," Mort concluded as he ran his fingers through his hair
and faced the house once more, "I have to get to work anyways."
Fiona's eyes followed Mort's every move as if he were her prey. She walked behind him ever so slowly, amazed by his beauty. Never in her life had she
felt so certain.
She suddenly began to feel as if she were lucky to escape the hospital, the
hospital that they tortured her in, the mean, horrible, vicious doctors
with their long needles and taunting machines.
But most of all she escaped the tight, sweaty, and uncomfortable white
jackets.