"May I kiss your forehead, Crimson?" She doesn't recoil or say a word, so I press my lips gently against her forehead. It's a tender and fleeting moment, but it fills me with a warmth that I can't explain.
"Just because a relationship has an expirat...
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CRIMSON DONOVAN
I open the front door and shut it, the sound booming across the floor and still air. I stiffly walk past the hallway toward the stairs.
"Crimson! You are back! Want to have dinner?" I hear my Dad calling out from the dining room.
"Yes."
"Will you eat now or after taking a shower?" he inquires.
"Yes."
"...Huh? Why do you sound so...ghostly?" I hear him ask amidst the clattering of pots and pans.
"Yes."
"Miss Crimson? Do you feel ill? I can whip up some soup if you want?" Uncle Josh, our caretaker, asks, peeping out from the kitchen.
"Yes."
Before they can interrogate me some more, I retreat to my room and shut the door. I float across the room and collapse onto my bed, burying my face in the plush pillow.
Then with my hands gripping its edges tightly, I take a deep breath before screaming out loud into the pillow.
My Dad bursts into the room, gun in hand, followed by Uncle Josh wielding his whipping stick.
"What's wrong? Who's there? Is everything alright? ARE YOU IN DANGER!?" my father demands, his gun lowering a tad bit only after ensuring there was no threat in the room.
"I'm fine, really!" I affirm, placing a hand over my drumming heart.
"If so, why did you scream like that?" he probes, while Uncle Josh hastily closes the windows and draws the curtains shut.
I clear my throat, trying to hide my embarrassment.
"Uh, there was a spider," I stammer the first excuse that came to mind.
"You? Afraid of spiders? Since when?" Dad frowns, causing me to freeze in my bed.
I force a hesitant laugh, hoping to move the conversation along.
"It was the biggest, ugliest spider I've ever seen in my life! I was startled and shouted in reflex. But there's no need to worry, it escaped out the window. So, please, put your... weapons away," I add, plastering a grin on my face to back my lie up.
Both men narrow their eyes at me but they thankfully leave after one sweep of the room until they are assured about my safety.
I fall back onto my bed in relief, only to remember the reason for my earlier outburst.
Drexel Genesis.
Turning over in my bed, I groan and repeatedly kick my feet into the mattress.
HelikesmeHelikesmeHelikesme!
Oh, how cruel fate was. Why had I even come to America?
Why couldn't I just say "screw it" and agree to date him?
