Indira
The tall boy at my side slips his free fingers around the doorknob, his pale skin warm against my wrist. His cuffed sleeves scrape the edges of my sweater--the one Cale let me borrow. The night is young, and scents of blooming trees float on the dusk breezes. I never loved August. It meant summer was not quite over but fall and winter were not far off. I don't actually love any season. Come to think, there is always something to complain about any time of the year.
"I need you to keep a lookout," he says softly. H is never anything but gentle, and I know he's scared, so I bite down hard on my lips and nod, turning to watch behind us. A cobblestone path curves away from the backdoor threshold we stand at, and beyond that are trees. Glaring lights peer from a distance. They are search lights.
I look back at his progress on the lock. It's tricky business, working with outdated keys.
"Let me," I mumble, trading him positions. His fingers slip away from my arm, and I set to work on the old doorknob, trying to fidget with the rusty keys. "Who are they looking for this time?"
"I don't know, but they wouldn't be happy to find us here."
"You're right. Son of a rich man, sneaking around these parts with an illegal human?" I laugh and shake my head. "Best we get inside."
"Mmhmm." He smirks, flicking at my hair. "I'd like to see if they still keep paints here."
Heat rises to my cheeks. I avoid looking at him. It is no secret that his father purchased me for other, more risque reasons, but he insists on something called 'worth.' According to H, all humans have individual value that has nothing to do with money. I don't know what's more confusing--the fact that he's related to Rob, his ugly-minded, wealthy father, or that he and I have never slept in the same room together. It's strange being treated as an equal with a higher class gentleman. It's been this way for months, and I'm still not accustomed to it.
"Got it," I whisper, pushing open the door. Its rusty hinges squeak and groan as it drags across the warped floorboards. H and I step inside, feeling our way through the dark before closing the door.
H locks it, peering anxiously through the window's lacy curtains and into the yard. "You don't think they'll search this house?"
"Not likely. I've hidden in the gardens before and they didn't bother with the cottages there."
"Fantastic." He smirks, turning to examine the room.
I lean against the wall next to the door, watching him move against the shadows in his dark clothes. "Why'd you come with me?"
He shrugs nonchalantly. "If I'm not home, they'll assume I'm on vacation with my father. I'd rather be sneaking around the grounds with you than stuck at home with Gem and her boyfriend."
I snicker. "We'd better make sure we're the only ones here before we camp it out."
"Agreed." H strides into the next room. "Stay close."
I follow at a distance, glancing around the dimness. We seem to be in a kitchen, and the next room over is a living room with two hallways cutting off into the darkness. A staircase ascends beside a grand double-door that likely used to be the main entryway. H glides toward the stairs, the bold outline of his profile turning back to find me with his eyes.
"There's dust on the railing."
"Promising, but not affirmative."
He smirks at my vocabulary and shifts his weight upwards to test the steps. "No creaking."
"If there are people camping upstairs, they would have heard us by now." I fold my arms, amused. It's not probable that anyone has been here in years, since the place is so close to his father's mansion and the main town.
"It reminds my of my Grandmum's house on the coast," he mumbles as if I hadn't said anything, smoothing his fingers up the wooden banister. "Are you coming?"
"No." I follow him as he chuckles, and together we make our way upstairs.
- E N D . O F . T E A S E R -
