Under the Moonshine

Twelve | Fluttering Butterflies

Big round eyes stared up at Emily. Her cheeks were puffy, her pigtails giving her an adorable aura, not to mention that she has her own cuteness.

"Candice, this is your sister Emily," she introduced. "Emily, she's your baby sister."

Olivia's long dress has a leopard print, her posture rivalling those of professional model's composure. Chin up, stomach in, stern expression were her usual get up, intimidating some people. Emily wanted to disregard the introduction, wanted to neglect the kid's existence but her innocent eyes that looked up to her made her stone cold heart to melt.

"Hi, Candice," she greeted, kneeling down in front of her.

The kid grinned, displaying her missing front tooth and hugged her, small arms wrapping her neck. She felt warmth from her, the hug somehow made her hurt. Olivia had stopped giving her hugs when she turned seven.

"That's sweet," Emily murmured.

"I'll show you your room," her mother started to walk, expecting her to follow.

Max approached Candice, barely smelling her, his face bigger than hers. He licked her puffy cheek resulting to a blooming laughter from the kid. The Lab barked in greeting, and licked her one more time before following behind his master.

The guest room was small, fitted only for one person. It has a balcony, though, providing a view for the guest. Not turning on the lights, Emily dropped her bag on the floor while Max walked around the corner. He scratched the floor, as if digging something before turning in circles and sprawled out.

She let her body fell to the bed, bouncing back as it hit the mattress. Emptiness seemed to creep up on her and she had no idea why she was feeling that way.

She was worried.

Too damn worried.

She looked out the window, the light tapping of the rain told her the storm was about to fade. Putting out her cellphone, she started to search for Taren's number only to realize he has none. No cellphone number, no social security number, no birth certificate, no record at all. Technically speaking, that guy didn't exist.

She threw her phone and fidgeted, her constant worry for Taren was keeping her wide awake like a cheap drug. Suddenly, Max snapped his head up, nose pointing out the balcony. He looked alert.

Emily watched her dog, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"You okay, buddy?"

He let out a crying noise. Hopping off the bed, she soothed her bestfriend, calming his nerves. Max barked, his eyes still fixed towards the balcony. Then his tail waggled excitedly, like he was welcoming someone special.

A light tap on the glass reached Emily's ears, her head instantly turning to see who it was.

"Taren?"

His hair was dripping wet, his shirt gone, jeans soaked. Emily hurried to him and ticked off the lock, eyes wide with concern. She checked him up from head to toe, looking for wound or something and found none.

"Where were you?!" she asked exhaustedly. "Where's your shirt?"

He looked frozen, his muscles flexing as he shiver.

Emily headed to the bathroom and snatched the towel and wrapped it around him. She locked the door and looked up to him again, making sure he was fine.

Taren began to unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped it and started to push it down when Emily caught his hand to stop it.

"What the hell, Taren?" she asked, eyes wider, cheeks flushed.