Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I delicately handed Arthur his tea, our hands briefly grazed, and a sinister smirk played on his lips. Arthur, with his unsettling aura, always exuded an uncanny vibe, a sensation that lingered as he received the cup. In stark contrast, when James found himself in a similar scenario, there was no smirk; instead, a subtle chuckle escaped him, accompanied by a simple expression of gratitude.
Balancing a cup in hand, I navigated to a seat on the sofa's armchair beside Chan. The intensity of Arthur's gaze fixated on me, sent a shiver down my spine, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere. It wasn't just my discomfort; Minho and Chan, attuned to the nuances of the situation, directed heated scowls at Arthur, a silent warning not lost on the unnerving guest.
"Your tea is quite delightful. Thank you, my dear, for brewing this. I entirely forgot about tea," Arthur remarked, attempting to inject a semblance of normalcy into the gathering. I offered a small, uneasy smile to Miss Peregrine and muttered a quick, "It's fine," although my unease lingered beneath the surface.
As Chan and I were the sole recipients of our homemade tea due to the limited supply of teacups, an apologetic atmosphere loomed. Miss Peregrine, seizing the opportunity to redirect the conversation, addressed the guests with an assertive tone, "I apologize for any perceived disrespect, but I assume your visit isn't solely for Y/n's tea, is it?" Her directness aimed to steer the atmosphere back towards cheeriness, signaling her desire for the guests to depart.
James, responding with a nonchalant demeanor, relinquished his teacup to Chan, expressing his satisfaction with a casual request for seconds. In a bid to accommodate, I poured another cup, assuming a humble position on my kneecaps in front of him, mindful of my dress and not wanting to disrupt the unity of the gathering.
While James, in contrast to Arthur, had never been a source of alarm, it was the latter whose predatory gaze unnerved me. His eyes seemed to undress me, penetrating my discomfort. Chan, attuned to my unease, swiftly responded by slamming the teacup onto the coffee table, the impact resonating through the room. His voice, commanding attention, cut through the tension,
"State your requirements and get out of here. If it involves our newest family members, you'll leave either empty-handed or with bruises that will linger for years. I'll gladly be the one to administer them."
The collective focus shifted to Chan, his resolute words punctuating the charged atmosphere, a declaration that demanded the guests either reveal their true intentions or make a swift exit.
