Flames left behind

9{Breakfast}

 I woke up the next morning to the most delicious smell I've ever smelt in the history of smells.

The aroma was a delightful blend of cinnamon and strawberries, mingled with the savory scent of crispy bacon and sweet maple. It was like a slice of heaven. Wishing to stay in this bliss forever, I reluctantly sat up in bed. Surveying the room, I noticed the shades drawn in a 'Beauty and the Beast' fashion, with a sliver of sunlight sneaking in below the blackout curtains. "Where is the closet?" I wondered aloud, heaving the rest of my body up and flinging the blankets from my legs, scowling at the lack of more appropriate nightwear.

As comfortable as silk was, and as pretty as it looked, I'd rather not give Robert more of a reason to hate me. I pat the top of my head, feeling it stick up in all sorts of directions, and then wiping my mouth with the back of my hand I wiped the remainder of the slobber off. I pity my future husband.

I need a mirror, and I need a closet. I need them now.

There stood a blue door adorned with a flower, a green door featuring a bee, and finally, the red door which served as the room's exit.

Someone really should have given me a tour of my room, but I took my chances with the blue door, only because it looked prettier. Prettier may not always be best, and I should know that better than everyone, but it called out to me. Metaphorically, of course.

I guessed right.

"Oh my god," I exclaimed as I opened the wardrobe. It was overflowing with dresses, blouses, miniskirts (likely courtesy of Hanna), and much more. I wanted to choose something casual since I'd be wandering around the Institute for the day. Unfortunately, there was nothing casual, and everything was black. A knock on my door urged me to speed up, so I donned a slim-fitting cropped black tank top, baggy black cargo pants, and these adorable demon slippers. They were pink and blue, emitting a squeak with each step I took, the only splash of color in the closet. I released my hair from its tangled bun, letting it cascade in scarlet waves down my back. I dashed out of the room, following my nose to the kitchen, hoping I looked presentable and was going the right way. I skipped makeup, relying on my natural beauty—I enjoy complimenting myself when alone. As it turned out, I wasn't on the right path. After several wrong turns and countless dead ends, I finally reached the kitchen. Trusting my sense of smell and hearing was a brilliant move. I'm quite clever. The kitchen was spacious, and I immediately zeroed in on the food.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Bret said, rolling his eyes. I mimicked his expression, and then grabbed a muffin from his hand. Delicious, it smelled like chocolate and strawberries, not a combination I was sure I wanted to try, but I took it anyway. Why not try new things at my stay here? Free food. And I just wanted to piss him off.

"Hey, that's my-"

"What time is it?" And then I took a bite out of the muffin, gently placing it back in his outstretched hand. "Delicious."

His face turned red, and a deep voice rang out. Oh, I missed that voice. "A quarter past noon. You're just in time for lunch."

Ronin. I grinned up at him, as he took his place next to me. And then realization dawned on me.

"Wait, wait, wait—you're saying I missed breakfast?" I complained. Ronin patted my head and stretched behind me to snatch a strip of bacon. I sensed his muscles stiffen when he touched me, and I was pretty sure a blush was spreading up my neck. Bret just grinned.

"Yes, Ambrosia, you missed breakfast." He had a look of triumph plastered to his face.

I smiled back at him, replicating his look. "Careful Bret, don't talk back to your stepdaughter like that." His face fell, and a thousand emotions crossed his face, too fast I could only recognize one. Anger. Or possibly untamed rage.