The Psychic of Duchess Court

4: The Model Room

(Andrea's POV)

"Oh goodness! This is splendid! Such talent," I marveled, looking around at Ophelia's mini model room.

There were tiny cities, tiny roads, tiny bridges, tiny fountains, even tiny people and dogs, all displayed on a table that wrapped around all four walls. There were even skyscrapers that almost reached the ceiling. Everything was so meticulous and perfect. It was almost a little scary.

"I'm flattered, really. I worked super hard on everything. Would you like to see my favorite part?" she asked me, leading me further into the smallish room. It was about the same size as my hobby room. In fact I think it was the same one, since our houses had the same floor plan.

"I'd love to," I replied, following suit. She showed me a fully functioning train, and as she flipped a switch on the side of its track, it kicked into action.

It made its rounds, going over bridges, under tunnels, and through various stations.

"I made it myself, with some parts I got from a hobby shop in downtown Houston. It took me weeks, but I got a good result out of it. Don't you think?" she said, laid back for the first time ever in my presence. This was her element, and I had to admit that mine was indeed drastically different.

No wonder she was so shell-shocked in my home.

"I agree with that one-hundred percent," I answered. I liked this side of her, and I couldn't lie and say that I didn't find her craftsmanship very attractive.

I like a woman with goals.

"I could look at this forever," I said, in utter awe. I turned to find Ophelia looking right at me.

"Me too," she said, almost whispering it. I got chills, because I knew she wasn't talking about her little train anymore.

I could feel it.

I looked away, breaking the eye contact. But that feeling didn't go away. That . . . clenched-hand energy. Matter of fact, I was doing it right now.

Until I felt her touch my left hand with her right, unfurling it before taking it and threading our fingers together. That's when I closed my eyes, and gave a relieved sigh.

All these years of breathing training and I still couldn't get mine under control around her.

She squeezed my hand, and I turned to look into that almost painfully pretty face. The longing was back, if it had ever left. She looked damn near about to cry. I raised my other hand, put it on her cheek, before lifting the one with her hand in it and kissing the back of it gently while gazing into her eyes all the while.

"I really need this," she whispered this time, and I tilted my head.

"Need what, my precious doll?" I asked, wanting to kiss her fingers. So I did, very carefully. She gave a hearty sigh. I took them in my mouth, sucking and flicking my tongue around them. This time she whined. "I want to hear you say it."

"I need you," she at last confessed.

I kissed her fingers again before pulling her close to me, sweeping some of her hair behind her ear and leaning in ever-so-gently, smelling her perfume as I did so, working up the nerve to do something that was right for me for a change.

And then I woke up.

🔮🔮🔮

I must've fallen asleep on my outside patio couch.

I woke up with a start, covered in sweat from the retreating rays of the sun and my recent powerful vision. I haven't had one like that in years. Everything was so vivid; the train, the city, the fake grass, the little trees, and the pining expression in her eyes as she told me what she needed . . .

The future is fickle. We have control over it, yes, but one thing could throw the trajectory of your life in a completely new direction. It's the butterfly affect, and it was interesting, but right now I was kind of upset about it. All the outcomes of my life could lead me to that moment, the moment I dreamed about. But then again, one wrong move . . .

There was no use sitting around and brooding about it, though.

Ophelia had probably gone inside long ago, because now it was about eight, and the sun was almost fully set. I got up with a great stretch before collecting my singular teacup and heading inside.

At least I knew some new things about her, though. She had her own hobby room, and she really was a very talented engineer. I just wished I could see it for myself, in person and not just in my dreams.

I sighed, placing my cup in the sink and splashing some cold water on my face. The scent I'd put in the purifier, hibiscus, was very comforting, and it actually gave me a good idea.

I would go over there tomorrow, to deliver the rest of the dogwood pods. Of course! Why didn't I think of that earlier? I would do it after her yoga, around the time my last client for the day left.

And hopefully, tomorrow would be a better day.