Alchemy was nestled quietly in her little blanket-nest. This was her favourite way to sleep. She was curled up in a little ball, elegant even though she was asleep. With the late morning sunlight seeping through the little cracks from where she lay to the edges of her duvet, she opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the lime green light she was bathing in. She yawned, and felt oddly at peace, content with the world around her. Everything was peaceful and quiet and, therefore, beautiful.
A loud crash woke her from her dream-like state. She bolted up. "What the hell are you doing?"
Whatever the hell Blackheart was doing, he stopped and suddenly looked guilty, "I, er, I was changing the bed sheets."
"Why?" She asked, eyebrow raised.
"Because," he was flustered, "it's only fair..."
"You're an idiot." She curled back up under the blankets. The noise was muffled, and then eventually fell away entirely. It was like being in a womb; warmth pulsating all around, and she felt her gentle heart beat, the sound filling her ears. She fell back into a dream-like state again, not quite awake, but not asleep either. She lay there happily content with the dewy Tuesday light. It was morning, but what time? Nine? Ten? Maybe nine; that was usually her standard wake up time. She sat up, letting the covers fall away. The room was empty. "I could stay here all day," She said to herself.
Within the hour (it was ten when she woke up), she showered, dressed, and brushed her hair. It was still wet, so she pulled it into a simple knot at the back of her head.
"Morning," She came down the stairs.
There was a general murmur of hellos.
Praxis serenely looked up at her daughter, "dressed rather nice for working at home..."
Alchemy looked down at her summer dress. It was a simple black dress with a dark pink satin trim. It had broad straps, and a nice rounded neck. She smoothed the front, "I like this dress..."
"Blackheart," Praxis snapped. Not angrily, just suddenly. "Tell me, is Mimi over-dressed?"
She turned to face him, standing as straight as she could. His eyes trailed from her shoulders to her knees, then back to her neck. "It's fine," he said, refusing to look her in the eye.
Alchemy looked down, "Mother, what groceries do we need?"
Praxis handed her daughter a list, "take Blackheart with you. He's been inside for far too long."
Alchemy nodded, quickly reading over the list and taking the car keys from the counter. She slipped into a pair of sandals and waved goodbye to her mother.
Alchemy rammed the keys into the ignition and let her head fall to the steering wheel.
Blackheart, confused in the passenger's seat looked over, "What's wrong?"
"Until you came, everything was fine. My mother didn't treat me like shit. Now you're here and she can't stand me."
"I don't think your mother had anyone to look after until I got here. Praxis is in her element, taking care of the weak and sick."
The rest of the trip was quiet. Both were in contemplation.
Alchemy noticed it right away: there was a coolness between her and Blackheart. Maybe he had only been nice to get on her good side, so that sharing a room wasn't sheer torture. Alchemy had always been fairly easily swayed by a pretty face and a man who could dish out compliments.
Though, Blackheart did tend to insult her a lot. Playfully, of course.
But...then....how come he could—or rather would—not look her in the eye? Had she done something? Had it been the cinnamon bread? Had she been too forward with asking him to watch Donnie Darko with her, especially since she wasn't wearing a shirt? Would she end up scaring him away like last time?
No, she pushed her thoughts away from her stupid mistakes from when she was sixteen.
Surely Alchemy wasn't blind to the fact that Blackheart had been unable to look her in the eye thus far in the day. Even when he asked her why she was upset, his eyes lingered on her cheek. It was that damn dream. Frankly, he didn't understand why it was bothering him so much. When he first woke up he felt out of control, but after he woke up in the morning, he realized that it was a perfectly normal occurrence.
At least, that's what he had been told most of his life. He never had many of those sorts of dreams, even when he was a hormonal teenager.
No, what threw him was the image of a sixteen year old Alchemy. Though she had fleshed out nicely as a nineteen year old, when she was sixteen she was more child than woman. Her hips were undeveloped and her chest was relatively flat. At the right angle, one could easily mistake hr for a girl of fourteen, if not younger. Her hair back then had been short and messy. She was also very thin back then. Skeletal. Her ribs were clearly visible when she breathed deeply. Though she ate more than enough food, she never gained weight.
At nineteen, almost twenty, she had gained enough weight to be considered "normal". She was no longer skeletal. Her hips were broad, but not so wide that it was overly noticeable. Her breasts fleshed out to a good size for her frame; a C maybe a D? He wasn't sure. She was a woman now.
The two didn't talk much during the day. They spoke casually, but with a detachment neither had expected. That night, they only nodded to each other. Again, their eyes never met. But, for Blackheart, the dream came again. And again. And for a week, every night. And with each one of these dreams, he couldn't bear to look Alchemy in the eye. It was painfully apparent to both of them they were growing apart.
Praxis and Alexander were going on vacation. Though most years Alchemy joined them, this year she opted, or rather fought, to stay home.
"I could have handled the house myself you know," Blackheart commented when he learned Alchemy was staying behind.
"You think I want to spend time with them?" She snorted, "besides, I like being alone."
"Um, I'm here, you're not alone."
She slammed down the frying pan she was holding. She had been about to make dinner. "God damn it Blackheart, you know what I mean."
"No, I fucking don't."
"Don't fuck around, you've been avoiding me for two weeks."
"What? How?"
"You don't look me in the eye, you don't compliment me. Fuck, you don't even insult me anymore."
"Wait, you want me to insult you. Yeah, Alchemy, that makes a lot of sense."
"Well, you used to." She replied, "always called me a silly little girl, or a stupid teenager."
"Alchemy," He sighed, "right now, you ARE a silly little girl."
She picked up the frying pan again, "Wanna say that again?"
"Put the pan down," He replied coldly.
"I want answers."
"Answers to what?"
"Why do you avoid me?" She lowered her arms, pan at her side, "We were so close, like real friends, then one day...we started growing apart."
"You're imagining things."
"No," She took a step closer to him, "No I'm not. I want to be your friend, and I don't think you want to be mine. I need a friend, now more than ever. My mother hates me, my father doesn't know what to do, I need to venture out on my own and embrace my demonic side, but I don't know how. My mother never taught me how to be a demon, you'll all I've got." He saw a few tears trail down her face.
"You've always wanted to be independent, even when you were sixteen," he smiled slightly, "and you've always been very much in-tune to how people around you feel. Trust me Alchemy, I don't want to steal your mother away. I'm sorry if I've seemed distant, it was not my intention." He took the frying pan from her and grasped her hands, "friends?"
She smiled, "Friends."
"A toast," Alchemy lifted her glass of wine.
Blackheart waited for the rest of her speech. When it didn't come, he cocked his head, "Um, Alchemy?"
"What?"
"What are we toasting?"
"To the fact that this is the first time my parents have left me in charge!" She smiled, "though, I am happy you are here as well."
"Why? Don't like being home alone?"
She took a sip of her wine, "I'm not the best alone."
"Nonsense, a strong girl like you?"
"Demon's are good at fighting, yes? We are, in this world, magical?"
"Yeah."
"My mother never showed me how to defend myself against, well, anything. I know fighting, but I don't know any magic. Mother never expected to be apart from me...never wanted me to grow up." She then smiled, drinking more wine.
He never noticed it before, but she was really quite pretty when she smiled.
All in all, the seventeen days Blackheart and Alchemy spent home alone were the most fun either of them had in the two months they had been living under the same roof.
He even managed to forget the wet dreams during the daytime.
