Invisible

Chapter 11 Unexpected

~Lacey~

I was a little overwhelmed. I had no idea that Blaze had such a big family. I was no stranger to big families, look at mine, but for some reason I had imagined that Scott, Mal and Miles were it for siblings for him. I couldn't quite believe I had gone off on Scott like that. I had been listening to Blaze take his brother's crap for three weeks though without saying anything and I was damn sick of it. Someone needed to have a very serious talk with him. Then there were some of the things Blaze had said downstairs, especially when talking to Eleanor. I wanted them to be true. I hoped they were true. I felt like I might fly away at the sheer amount of giddiness at the thought that Blaze might have feelings for me, only Blaze's firm grip on my hand keeping me grounded.

He led me through the halls of his house and I tried not to get even more overwhelmed by the sheer, understated luxury at every turn. We went to the second story where all the kids rooms were, the first and third stories being communal rooms and the fourth for his parents. As we walked down the hall I noticed every door was a piece of art tailored to whoever's name was on it. I was surprised by Blaze's door. A stylized tribal sun was painted on a black backdrop, a flaming motorcycle at the core of the sun. The words Blazing Sun curved in around the image in bright oranges. It seemed like a lot more color than I would have expected, given his mostly black wardrobe. I gave Blaze a confused glance and he cringed and shrugged.

"It's a nickname." He bit the words out a bit harshly, but I was used to it by now and knew he didn't mean anything by it, except maybe that he wasn't fond of the nickname. He swung the door open to reveal a room where someone had taken the black and flame theme and run with it. It wasn't horrible actually. It was really kind of cool. Hand painted flames licked their way up his white walls, some tendrils reaching the ceiling. Smoke, in varying shades of grey, swirled around the white and crawled its way onto the ceiling. Flame licked black curtains hung from a rod that had been designed to look like a curl of smoke. A large black dresser sat near the door, the frame around the mirror on top looking like curls of smoke, and glass knobs that looked tiny flames. The plate around the light switch by the door had been designed to look like a fire alarm. A black drum set with flames crawling across it sat in one corner. The far wall held two doors painted to look like fire exits. It was the headboard of the bed though that was the real beauty. Obviously hand carved, a motorcycle dominated the center of it, surrounded by flames. A variety of pillows in blacks, reds and oranges were piled on the black bedspread. A black and white picture of an old, rusted out motorcycle hung above the bed. As I took it all in I suddenly realized I was seeing them again. In the curls of the flame and smoke on the walls, there were hearts, carefully hidden. And in the curls of the flames on the headboard, the words Family First. I couldn't help the smile as I looked at Blaze.

"What's with the hearts everywhere?" I asked, moving into the room and gravitating toward the drum set. Blaze looked surprised at my question.

"You see them?" the astonishment was clear in his voice as I nodded. They were pretty cleverly hidden but I found them every time. "No one ever sees them, even my sibs haven't found them all." I squirmed under the intensity of his gaze, "It's a thing between my parents from when they first got together in high school. There's a poem about hidden hearts that my mom wrote hanging in the living room."

"That's sweet." I said, running my fingers across the drum set, "I didn't know you played anything," I was nervous and avoiding looking at him. I could hear him moving around behind me.

"Yeah, everyone can play something. Although Eleanor is the real genius of the horde. My dad taught me how to play." Somehow it didn't surprise me in the slightest that perfect little Eleanor was the musical genius.