From the Stars, to the Stars

From the Stars, to the Stars: Chapter Ten

The scent of apples tinges the air "Time to wake up, Snow White," someone whispers, but I am dead tired from the day before; I roll over, burrowing deeper into my blankets.

"Come on, Princess. I've come to tempt you," the voice insists. Its owner tugs at my bedspread until my head's free. The heat of the sun thickens against my face.

Something cool and firm presses against my lips forcing an instinctual awareness crashing over me. My eyes pop open, then immediately pop right back closed. I groan.

Though my internal clock swears otherwise, dawn has broken, but the sun has nothing to do with me being awake.

Sebastien sits beside my hip, a fairy-tale-red apple offered in one hand, as if from a wicked stepmother come to poison me. My exhausted brain notes this is entirely logical, since being more than the bare minimum of consciousness at this hour is bad for my health.

As if to prove how much I should want his gift, Sebastien raises an identical apple to his lips, a bite already missing. My gaze follows as his mouth sinks into it, his teeth breaking through the bloody skin, tearing into the white flesh. The muscles of my stomach clench at the sight of his tongue as he licks from his wrist a drop of runaway juice.

I groan again, throwing my pillow over my face.

"It's not that early, Jocelyn."

"Wrong, "I grumble, my voice muffled. "It's definitely too early for forbidden fruit in bed. Go away and let me sleep for another hour."

He sets both apples on my desk and turns to force me up.

"I bet Snow White was never this surly. Maybe you're better suited as one of the dwarfs. You certainly meet the height—or lack thereof--requirement. Shall we dub you 'Grumpy'?"

"I'll have you know I am five-two, thank you very much! Now leave me be. I'm sleepy...Or Sleepy. Whichever gets me a few more winks before I have to face the day." I wriggle the blanket back up, muttering, "How'd you even get in here; hiding in the light bulb or something? Lucky I'm not awake, or I'd pulverize you . . ."

Sebastien rips the covers away and then scoops me into his arms, careful to keep my jammies between us. "Both very good questions. First answer, no. I have not been hiding in your lights. Wiring isn't that comfortable. Secondly, there's this movement to which many people subscribe, called 'morning', and I'm recruiting you." He grins at me, as if this settles everything.

"Morning, huh?" I ask. "Can't do it. Conscientious objector, in fact."

Sebastien sighs. "There are no conscientious objectors for morning, Jocelyn."

"Happy to kick off the revolution," I say. I try to lunge back toward my bed, grunting. "'Viva la . . . !' and all that."

"Ah yes, in your bedclothes you're the most stalwart of threats. I suspect what you really need is a long, hot soak. Then you'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"Ha!" I blurt, smelling victory. "Lo ciento, loco; our water heater is an antique. No sane person would expect it to pump out enough hot water for a bath."

Sebastien crosses the hall quickly, setting me on my feet next the bathroom sink and closing the door behind us. "Lucky for you, I dabble in minor miracles. One tub-full of steamy water coming right up, compliments of your Friendly Neighborhood Dionadair."

I cross my arms, watching him turn on the bath water. "You still haven't told me why you're here, or why you've gotten me up at this unholy hour. It's Saturday, you know. The traditional day of sleeping in, and after what you put me through this week, you better believe I need it. Don't think we won't be having a discussion about that when I fully process, by the way."