We ended up in the kitchen.

Flora wouldn't allow me rest without chatting over a drink first, so she poured me a glass of Merlot and we began to talk. I diluted it with a bit of water to prevent a hangover in the morning, but she didn't. Slipping into her chair across from me, she took a swig of her wine and slowly, venomously, looked up to meet my gaze. I felt as if I'd been staring at a magazine mannequin, makeup and hair, dress and all. She certainly did flower though, with her strawberry blonde hair in loose curls that fell passed her shoulders. She now fashioned a sparkling mesh, pink and gold cocktail dress with a shawl at the crook of her elbows. She looked as if she'd just gone out.

"So Luke," she mused. I felt as if we'd just begun an interrogation. "Why've you come back?"

Well, no use in keeping it to myself if I was to live in London now, right? I sipped my drink and shut my eyes for a moment.

" Graduated. Got a job here in London." She perked up a bit, and licked her lips before she spoke.

"Oh! Congratulations! What job've you gotten?"

"A-Archaeologist."

"Wow, did you tell the Professor?"

"No."

"Why not? He would've been so delighted to know all this, Luke."

I set my elbows on the table and cupped my hands to my mouth, then slid them down my face in a manner that read "what the hell am I doing?" To be honest, I refused to think of what would it would be like to live here back when I was in America. Every thought I had of London or the Professor I pushed far, far back into my mind. I should have thought of them though, so I wouldn't be in this dilemma now. She caught me off guard then, with quite a question.

"Why did you leave?" 'You bastard,' I bet she was thinking. I wouldn't have thought it that way if her tone hadn't sounded so irate. Her eyes reminded me of her stepmother's back at Curious Village for a moment, and I heard a click. I think it was her teeth grinding.

Oh how I had been awaiting this moment.

"Simple. I was just moving out of the way to let you and the professor go at it. I saw it, don't tell me I'm wrong, Flora." Believe me, I tried hard to chuckle it off. Usually I would expect this woman to defend herself like a teary-eyed ball of regret, but instead, it seems she's swallowed up a sort of anger towards me that she had been waiting to let out.

"Oh please, Luke," she blew, shaking her head at me as if I was some child. I would have believed her back when we were young and together often, but I suppose over the years, I'd been so convinced that they were in fact together that I barely cared to listen. "You think I was out and about with the man that was just kind enough to play as my father? Do you think we're together now? Do you?" She demanded an answer now, her dainty hands pounding the table. Funny though, because our argument was no higher than a cluster of whispers.

"I don't think Flora, I know," I hissed, leaning forward to emphasize.

"You are so bloody ridiculous, you have no idea Luke."

Damn. I was losing.

"Please explain then, Flora-dear." And with that, we began our conversation of the past.

You want to hear something that I regret finding out? In actuality, neither Flora nor the Professor had any feelings towards one another.

"Fine. Let me begin. The day after you left, the Professor was in a frenzy and only I was there to pull the poor man back together. Do you realize how much you bloody mean to him, imbecile? Day after day he woke up with the words 'good morning, Luke!' just as he always had when you ran into his little room to wake him, except for the fact that you're no longer there! He believed you would be back in a matter of days, and when that had become a lie, he believed months, a year, years. Every day he has to say your name. For heaven's sake, do you see the house? Do you see your pictures here anymore? He gathered them up like a rodent or something, and put them into your old room; his new room, by the way. I personally think the man has gone mad, but I love him so much like a father that I can't bring myself to let him go and live with my fiance. I have been engaged longer than expected because Layton refuses to sell the damned house and live with us in case you happened to have come back. And here you are!" Flora's arms flew up in exhaustion. She finished her speech with a loud and somewhat riveting sigh. This now left me in a state of surprise. Speechless.

She then slouched back and shut her eyes, a few moments passing by before she rubbed her temples. After the entirety of her rant, I actually did feel like a child. I was flushed and hot, embarrassed and without words. Was this true or not? But why would she lie to me?

I gingerly sat up and pursed my lips before I admitted to her that I was sorry. I apologized and hugged her abruptly. We spoke slow and softly, and she embraced me after this long, hard period of years. We smiled, chuckled, and spent the rest of the time together of how we'd come to be. As I spoke to her, she told me she realized that she had fallen in love with a very wealthy man, and admitted to me that Layton was undoubtedly in love with me, which of course I ignored. Whether the man said it or not, he loved me she said. Breaking our conversation's flow with a yawn, I put our glasses into the sink.

"We should retire, Luke."

"I agree. Ah, but-"

"Yes?"

"I.. Haven't any clothing. Not even nightwear."

Adorably she scolded me, tapping me over the nose and instructed me to head off to bed. As we headed upstairs, she hushed me and had me open Layton's door myself. Flustered and pink, I opened my former bedroom and found that all of my pictures had truly been in this small place. I stood in awe for a few moments, but the Professor stirred, causing me to jump and scurry to find an outfit for slumber. I don't know if he caught a glimpse of me, but I slipped out in silence only to return to my room, breathless.

Author's note:

Short I know, guys! but I just wanted their talk to be in one chapter. I have time to write more, so expect chapters to come! Thank you!