Guiding Light (GxGxG)

4. Red Roses Please

I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. My stomach instantly started to rumble, reminding me that I had skipped both lunch and dinner the day before. With a sudden burst of energy, I flung the covers away and hopped out of bed wearing nothing more than an oversized sheer t-shirt. I followed the aroma to my kitchen, only to spot Rhea by the stove, fixing up a plate.

"Good morning," she greeted, sparing me a glance.

I edged closer, the aroma still pulling me in. "I didn't know you knew how to cook."

She smiled with pride at that, transferred the scrambled eggs from the skillet to the plate that was dressed with waffles and mixed berries, turned off the heat, then turned her attention to me. Her eyes swept over my body, starting from my legs until her view was blocked by the mid-thigh t-shirt I wore. Yet even so, the garment didn't deter her wandering eyes. They climbed steadily and seemed to settle on my breasts.

I smirked at the sight. "Are you done drooling?"

Rhea blushed in embarrassment, picked the plate up, and turned away to grab a cup of coffee too. "There are books in your bookcase that have proved to be very useful," she said as she approached. "It taught me how to make this. Can you believe it?"

I couldn't help smiling at her enthusiam. "Is that what you've been up all morning doing?"

"Yes," she confirms out. Then, she handed the plate and coffee to me. "Bacon is your favourite."

"I'm not hungry."

"Don't lie. I can tell you want it, so just take it and stop being difficult."

"You see this," I said, pointing at her, a bit annoyed. "That, what you just did, stop doing it. Stay out of my head."

She offered up the plate again, and the scent wafted into my nose, making my stomach rumble. I sighed and took it. Rhea beamed, making me scoff and turn my back to her. I sat by the counter, and she followed, leaning against the marble countertop with a hand holding her face up as she watched me eat.

Her stare made me uncomfortable. It was a feeling I felt for the first time, with her looking at me, and I wasn't sure what brought it on. Maybe it was the way in which she was smiling as she watched me. Or, perhaps it was the look in her eyes that I found unsettling. That look as if I were something to be worshipped, something to gleam at.

"How old are you?" I decided to break the tension with a question that had bothered me since our conversation the night before. She looked young, really young, and considering she's been older than me when I was young, it just makes me curious.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because you look the same as back then."

She hummed. "Well, back then I was a baby. Less than half a century—"

My jaw dropped. "What!? You're fifty years old?"

"No, I'm 71," she corrected, frowning. "The same as you."

"I'm 22!" I defended.

"And how long have you been 22?" she asked, amused.

"A few years," I mumbled under my breath. "I lost count. Stopped paying attention a while back."

"Hmm. The point is, we were born together; that's how a Guardian works. My birth is tied to yours."

"What about your death?"

"You'll die if I do," she assured with a straight face, cementing everything she said as the truth. But how could it be?

I studied her expression, curiosity mounting inside me from her words, but instead of asking the questions, I turned my attention back to my breakfast. "Thank you for...breakfast," I told her in a voice way too kind. It was unlike me, but I couldn't help myself.