Crumbling Cakes

Part XXXIX (39)

I shuffled around the kitchen, dancing and bouncing to the beats coming through my headphones. Er, Ronaldo's headphones as I am a pilfering pilfer that pilfers.

Ronaldo disappeared at the crack of dawn for his meeting with Matteo, leaving me bereft in my cooling bed and highly disoriented. Question's piling on to connect the crazy pieces that have been the last 24 hours.

Had Ronaldo been hiding a very important relative? Yes.

Was Matteo going to be a key player in my takedown plan? Ah...I wish I could say no.

Did last night really happen? Yes.

Am I going to be weird about this? POSSI-FUCKING-BLY!

It's almost as if my migraines have taken up permanent residence behind my eyeballs. But not right now. Right now I was bouncing and singing. Feeling more like myself than I had in weeks.

So maybe getting my violin fiddled to a grand finale had something to do with my chipper mood. I mean come on...

Emptying the dishwasher, I bobbed and weaved with my spatula-microphone while I belted out one of my favorites.

Crooning about how I didn't want fame if I had to be shameless. Honestly, it was a five-star performance; I felt like Freddie Mercury.

That is until I turned around to find Sweets leaned over the countertop with his chin propped in his palm. Eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Hello, Darlin'." The corner of his mouth hitched up.

"Oh... you saw all of that, huh," I panted, dropping the spatula. Nutcrackers. I bent over to swoop it off the floor and tossed it into the sink behind me.

"Every move." He grinned.

I blew a few stuck tendrils from my face and ran the back of my hand across my forehead. Propping my hands on my hips, I braced myself. Here we were, the face to face after last night.

"I didn't know you could sing like that, Shorts. Have to say, I feel a little robbed." He straightened out.

Heh, don't we all. He's made me feel robbed plenty of times... LIKE LAST NIGHT.

I shrugged. "Just another one of Bathilda's gifts. Unfortunately." My head bobbed. "Besides, one of us had to be able to sing. We both know you can't carry a tune in a bucket."

Sebastian's eyes followed a pattern across my face. "Nope, I can't." There was no shame in his agreement. But as we watched each other, the mood shifted. He stared at my lips, apparently lost in thought or maybe even a memory.

"We need to talk." He walked around the counter to stand before me, leaning his hip against it. It's here, it's here...

"Oh?" I schooled my expression into neutrality.

"About last night..."

Not for the first time, I panicked he felt some regret. He had that look on his face that I dreaded. The stoic this might hurt face. Shit on a stick. My heart started cracking at the edges just falling away. Here it was, the moment I knew had to be coming. The look of remorse on his face said it all.

It shouldn't have gone that far. Things got out of hand. It shouldn't have happened, it was a mistake. 

A mistake that we would have to sweep under the rug. Where I would have to pretend that his hand hadn't gone down my pants and took me to the pleasant village of O-town, population: dwindling.

This was going to suck. You don't forget perfection and insane chemistry. Now I was going to have to do both. Fuck it all I'd confessed my plans to him too soon.