Love Tides | ✓

three | hid the rum

εσύ, εγώ και η θάλασσα

[ you, me & the sea ]

☆ ☆ ☆

"Holy . . ."

Avery's words were cut off by his own tongue as he stood in front of an enormous house. From the outside, the house was lined in large, beige marble pillars, elegant shaped trees surrounded the sidewalks and the sound of birds twittering danced in the breezy air.

The door of the house opened suddenly, standing in front of him was a woman. She looked around fifty, sixty perhaps, with aging white hair and an elegant maid's dress that went down to her knees. A kind, evermore smile painted her lips as she signaled Avery to come inside.

"You must be Avery Lawrence. Yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," Avery answered, pulling his bag tighter as he gave her a closed-mouthed smile.

The woman smiled wider and shook her head, opening the ajar door wider to let him pass inside. "Please, call me Martha."

Inside the house was just as incredible as the inside, the floors shined spotless and the delicious aroma of lemon filled the air. A breath left his lips as he continued to look around in awe. "Wow."

Martha looked at him with a small smile as she continued to lead him through a series of complex archways, almost confusing him.

"Now," Martha started, "I know you'll only be here for so little time and the manor seems a bit."

"Big," Avery answered for her.

"Yes, but I'm sure you'll get around quite easily after you learn the directions. Mr. Bakirtzis liked the house to have enough rooms so even a royal family could live here."

"Has a royal family lived here?" Aver asked, following her, yet walking slower due to his immense stature compared to Martha's.

Martha laughed lightly, "No, well, not yet. I'm sure Mr. Bakirtzis would love a royal family to come visit him, but he'd probably forget and shoo them out."

Just like Jean Taylor described Mr. Bakirtzis - old, annoying, drunk, reeks of cigarettes and forgets about almost everything.

Suddenly, Martha stopped in front a door, sending a pitiful smile in Avery's direction.

"Now, I have to warn you," Martha started, "Mr. Bakirtzis is a little . . . unique. I suggest you to never mention the name Jea-"

"MARTHA! LOOK, LOOK, A BIRD IS INSIDE! HURRY, HURRY!"

Martha opened the large doors and led Avery inside. For a moment, Avery was taken aback.

The man inside was very much young, looking around his forties, with a lean and tall body, shoulder-length black hair, and an uncountable amount of minimalist tattoos covering his arms and a heavy british accent on his lips. The man pointed to an empty whiskey bottle, that had a small bird imprinted on it.

"Look! Martha!" The man exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the bird sketch on the wine bottle. "Its a bird! Have you ever seen a bird, Martha?"