Virtue and Vice

Chapter Six

A/N: So, you guys ready for some more? Book One doesn't seem to have an epic amount of chapters. It's actually only until Chapter Eleven but if you've been reading, you know the chapters are pretty substantial. This was designed to be a real book so I grouped the scenes that way. I'm hoping that if I finish dishing out Book One, you'll want Book Two but I have to decide whether I should merge them. They started out as one book and then it felt too long so.. Anyway! 

This chapter is pretty... Hot. At least around the end. But don't skip the rest of it! I hope you're old and mature enough to be reading this. Now, I really think the Restricted rating is appropriate.

Let me know what you think, okay? VOTE and COMMENT! You guys have been great! :)

***

I woke up with a heavy head, puffy eyes and a grim disposition.

The bruise-colored sky outside didn’t help either. 

Glumly, I washed my face and put a cold compress on my eyes for a few minutes before padding down to the kitchen in my nightdress and long cardigan.

I stopped by the doorway when I realized someone was already cooking in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sebastian greeted softly with a small smile as he looked up from the egg mixture he was beating. “French toast, bacon, eggs and coffee sound okay?”

Flustered, I glanced around the kitchen, wondering if Bart was going to materialize all of a sudden to announce that he was making breakfast and Sebastian had just poked his nose in.

When nothing happened, I blinked and cleared my throat, nodding briefly at Sebastian. “That’d be great, thanks.”

I had been awake for hours already and spent the early morning tossing and turning in my bed, wondering if I’d find myself all on my own today. He did say he was leaving.

If he was making me breakfast before saying goodbye, I was certain I’d throw the scrambled eggs in his face.

“Here, sit down.” He rounded the prep table and pulled out one of the low-backed high stool for me. He pushed it in after I sat down and went back to the egg batter he was making. 

I watched him silently as he dipped some sliced bread into the batter and laid them flat on the griddle behind him where the bacon was already cooking.

He was in his usual linen pants, chocolate brown this time, and a white shirt. His hair was still long and messy but he’d shaved the beard off. 

He poured us each a cup of coffee and asked me how much cream and sugar I wanted with mine. 

“So it looks like there’s a low pressure sticking around for the rest of the day,” he said conversationally before getting back up again to flip the french toast. “It’s rare for it to be not sunny around here in the summer but it’s a day for staying in.”

I took an experimental sip of my coffee. “Don’t tell me the weather’s what’s keeping you from your plans.”

He glanced at me, his expression clouding over briefly before he sighed and sat back down again. “My plans have changed.”

I did my damned best to keep a steady hand on my cup of coffee but I lowered it anyway before I could pour it all over me. 

I didn’t dare look up into his eyes but I managed a stiff nod. “Oh. That’s good.”

“If I was going to leave, I sure as hell won’t torture myself further by having breakfast with you first,” he said in almost a grumble.

I smiled for the first time since yesterday afternoon, finally meeting his annoyed gaze. “I was starting to wonder whether you were just fattening me up for the slaughter.”