They say every cloud has a silver lining. Cliché, I know. But, with twenty-year-old psychology student - Meliora Simmons, the clouds only appear to turn a darker shade of gray with no evidence of a bright side. Nightmares haunt her since her childho...
I did the most stupid thing any writer could ever do. I spent an entire day writing this chapter and when I was editing it, I felt sleepy and accidentally deleted the chapter :/ Kill me already :(
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❰ Meliora ❱
"Meliora," I stated as I shook his hand, not trusting myself with a full-fledged sentence. Good to know your vocabulary has descended to mono-words, my subconscious interjected and I couldn't agree more. Troy was hot, and I didn't do hot too well.
"That's a beautiful name," he said with a triumphant smile, then looked over at Zayn as if indicating something. It was confusing but I let it go when Lucy spoke.
"Why don't you all have a seat and I'll get you something to drink," she said with a smile.
"Good idea, sweetheart. Let me fetch something stronger for the two of us from the cellar." Arthur smiled and then walked away with his wife, leaving the five of us awkwardly standing.
I looked around at the odd bunch; they looked more like friends than siblings, to be honest. Mr. & Mrs. Kingsley had brought together a variety of ethnicity in their family and that made me think of them as open-minded and welcoming. They couldn't be killers, could they?
Daya smiled at me and gestured towards the lounge area in the corner of the room. There were a couple of white couches set in a rectangular shape, only the last end held nothing but a yellow lounge chair.
"Nice choice, brother." I heard Troy say from behind me and that's when I realized what his smirk actually meant. He thought Zayn and I were together, it had to be that. Or else, why would you complement your brother on his choice? Not wanting to give the wrong impression, I turned around to face him.
"Oh, I'm not with him," I clarified and awkwardly placed my hands in my back pocket. I looked over at Zayn whose eyes were fixated on Troy, probably throwing daggers at him in his head. Troy let out a small laugh.
"Rejection on your first date? Not good mate," he said, looking at Zayn.
My eyes widened at the mention of a date. Was it that obvious? I concluded that the scarlet red lipstick on my lips may have given them the impression. I also concluded that it was a wrong impression to make on the first meet, they must think I was one of his flings, which I was far from.
"We're not...on a date," I said awkwardly, not knowing how to explain our ordeal, "we just met and he said he could help me with something."
Looking over at Zayn, I noticed that he was staring at me, and I immediately averted my gaze. If I held an eye contact with him right now, it would counteract everything I had just said and lead them to believe it wasn't true.
