The Thistles of Rose

15 • Unfettered

♕ Rose ♕

New York in the Winter is magical. Glistening, white snow blankets every building, street and tree. Christmas lights brighten the glum streets. Active citizens wind through the bustling crowds with a diligent purpose in mind.

The second Daniel Orlov found out we were visiting New York, he invited us over for dinner. And he insisted we stay in his house on the first night since we're in "his territory". We're simply in the penthouse to freshen up.

"What outfit shall I pack for you for tomorrow?" Luca asks me from across the room. Both suitcases are open in front of him as he packs a duffel bag for us to stay in overnight.

"You choose," I tell him, laying on the bed, "pack an extra one though."

He nods his head and rummages through my suitcase as I divert my attention back to the FaceTime call with my mom.

"How was your flight?" She smiles.

"It was okay. At least it wasn't like our flight to Sweden," I wince at the memory.

I got food poisoning and couldn't stop throwing up. It was disgusting. And I still remember how much pain I was in because of it. I've never touched salmon since.

"You were asleep for most of it," Luca mumbles under his breath, picking out my white-striped jumper and mini skirt.

I always trust him to pick out the prettiest outfits for me. He has good taste.

"I was drowsy! I'm on four different meds," I puff out my bottom lip in a pout and then turn back to the phone, "he's grumpy when he's jetlagged."

"I heard that," he responds, glancing at me with a scold in his striking, grey eyes. I raise an eyebrow at him, incredulously.

He joined the mile-high club so I don't know why he's complaining about anything.

His lips rise in a smirk and he winks at me, teasingly. It catches on my heartstrings and enlightens my core in carnal memory. I can't help but smile back at him and he diverts his attention back to the bag.

"Ich nehme an, du hast nicht die ganze zeit geschlafen," [I take it you didn't spend all your time sleeping] my mother teases in German. We both learnt it while we were in Europe and thankfully Luca doesn't know it.

My cheeks burn red and my eyes widen at her to see she's smirking.

"Luca, my darling. Can you get me a drink please?" I ask him, politely. He glances at the decanter on the dresser and I quickly add, "not alcohol."

He nods, leaves our room and I make sure he's well out of earshot in the large penthouse before I reprimand her, "can you not talk about that when he's in the room?!"

"You're engaged. It's not bad for you to have sex," she deadpans with a taunting glint in her brown eyes, "it's normal at this stage not to be able to keep your hands off each other."

"Mom!" I whine, covering my beaming red face.

"Oh please, it wasn't weird for you to talk about it when I was your aunt. And now, when we've discovered I'm your actual mother, it's suddenly strange," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Yes!" I exasperate, stating the obvious, "it would've been a different story if I had known in Europe."

My words seemed to have struck a nerve in her because suddenly, she freezes as if she's been shot. Her eyes run blank in solemn pools and her hand touches her heart. My mom sighs.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you then but...I didn't want to set you back. You left here with a lot of baggage and you were healing so well. I didn't wanna risk messing that up," she whispers so delicately that it forges cracks in her voice, "and I would've told you much sooner but obviously, I wasn't allowed to see you guys."