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Evie’s eyelids dropped in ecstasy of the cupcake, despite the appearance of eating entirely junk food, she tried to indulge in the junk food binges only on her days off. It wasn’t that she ate salads and drank green smoothies though, she liked food… maybe liked wasn’t the right word. She loved food, real food. The junk food and cloying cupcakes were rewards for making it through her work week just like wine. Just because she indulged in wine heavily while she was off work didn’t mean that she drank it every meal. Rolling her eyes heavenward, a small moan escaped as she swallowed the last of it.
‘May I?’
Blinking, she looked at him. He’d cleaned her kitchen and now was asking for permission to eat a cupcake? His wife must have really beaten him with the broom. Licking her fingers, she waved with her free hand at the plate. “This isn’t Mother May I, help yourself… they are half yours. You helped bake them.” The corner of her mouth twisted up and she shook her head in amusement at him.
The conversation drifted to Karen Buller as she passed him a glass of milk. ‘And what number does she live at?’ Her amused smirk grew into a full grin, ‘I’ll make sure to avoid her when I do this next.’ A laugh bubbled out of her which was quickly covered up by her hand. Clearing her throat, she tilted her head back and her chin up as she grinned up at him, “You’re always welcome to bang on my door again the next time this happens.” It was a shameless flirtation but she’d been unable to resist teasing him.
Turning she put the milk back into the refrigerator and snickered at his retort about a pretty jailer, and shook her head. Were there pretty jailers? Glancing over her shoulder, “Got a handcuff kink?” She smirked, “I should have guessed.” A teasing glint flickered in her dark eyes as she closed the refrigerator, “It’s always the suits that a girl has to watch.”
She wasn’t prepared for him to drain half the glass of milk and toss back a bold flirtation at her. ‘What, no finance analyst fantasies? Surely you must be in the minority there?’ So he wanted to play did he? The imp on her shoulder was bouncing up and down encouraging her while the poor angel slumped defeated thinking, ‘here we go again’.
Stepping over, she invaded his space filling it with her small frame. With a hand resting on her hip, she let her eyes start at his bare feet and slowly trace upwards over every bulging curve and hard angle of his body until her puckish gaze settled on his intense blue eyes.
“I don’t waste time fantasizing when there is an opportunity right in front of me.” The corner of her lip lifted up showing a teasing dimple in her cheek and without blinking she asked, “Is it uncomfortable?” She waited for him to answer her before she clarified what she was asking about.
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Evie’s eyelids dropped in ecstasy of the cupcake, despite the appearance of eating entirely junk food, she tried to indulge in the junk food binges only on her days off. It wasn’t that she ate salads and drank green smoothies though, she liked food… maybe liked wasn’t the right word. She loved food, real food. The junk food and cloying cupcakes were rewards for making it through her work week just like wine. Just because she indulged in wine heavily while she was off work didn’t mean that she drank it every meal. Rolling her eyes heavenward, a small moan escaped as she swallowed the last of it.
‘May I?’
Blinking, she looked at him. He’d cleaned her kitchen and now was asking for permission to eat a cupcake? His wife must have really beaten him with the broom. Licking her fingers, she waved with her free hand at the plate. “This isn’t Mother May I, help yourself… they are half yours. You helped bake them.” The corner of her mouth twisted up and she shook her head in amusement at him.
The conversation drifted to Karen Buller as she passed him a glass of milk. ‘And what number does she live at?’ Her amused smirk grew into a full grin, ‘I’ll make sure to avoid her when I do this next.’ A laugh bubbled out of her which was quickly covered up by her hand. Clearing her throat, she tilted her head back and her chin up as she grinned up at him, “You’re always welcome to bang on my door again the next time this happens.” It was a shameless flirtation but she’d been unable to resist teasing him.
Turning she put the milk back into the refrigerator and snickered at his retort about a pretty jailer, and shook her head. Were there pretty jailers? Glancing over her shoulder, “Got a handcuff kink?” She smirked, “I should have guessed.” A teasing glint flickered in her dark eyes as she closed the refrigerator, “It’s always the suits that a girl has to watch.”
She wasn’t prepared for him to drain half the glass of milk and toss back a bold flirtation at her. ‘What, no finance analyst fantasies? Surely you must be in the minority there?’ So he wanted to play did he? The imp on her shoulder was bouncing up and down encouraging her while the poor angel slumped defeated thinking, ‘here we go again’.
Stepping over, she invaded his space filling it with her small frame. With a hand resting on her hip, she let her eyes start at his bare feet and slowly trace upwards over every bulging curve and hard angle of his body until her puckish gaze settled on his intense blue eyes.
“I don’t waste time fantasizing when there is an opportunity right in front of me.” The corner of her lip lifted up showing a teasing dimple in her cheek and without blinking she asked, “Is it uncomfortable?” She waited for him to answer her before she clarified what she was asking about.
Evie’s eyelids dropped in ecstasy of the cupcake, despite the appearance of eating entirely junk food, she tried to indulge in the junk food binges only on her days off. It wasn’t that she ate salads and drank green smoothies though, she liked food… maybe liked wasn’t the right word. She loved food, real food. The junk food and cloying cupcakes were rewards for making it through her work week just like wine. Just because she indulged in wine heavily while she was off work didn’t mean that she drank it every meal. Rolling her eyes heavenward, a small moan escaped as she swallowed the last of it.
‘May I?’
Blinking, she looked at him. He’d cleaned her kitchen and now was asking for permission to eat a cupcake? His wife must have really beaten him with the broom. Licking her fingers, she waved with her free hand at the plate. “This isn’t Mother May I, help yourself… they are half yours. You helped bake them.” The corner of her mouth twisted up and she shook her head in amusement at him.
The conversation drifted to Karen Buller as she passed him a glass of milk. ‘And what number does she live at?’ Her amused smirk grew into a full grin, ‘I’ll make sure to avoid her when I do this next.’ A laugh bubbled out of her which was quickly covered up by her hand. Clearing her throat, she tilted her head back and her chin up as she grinned up at him, “You’re always welcome to bang on my door again the next time this happens.” It was a shameless flirtation but she’d been unable to resist teasing him.
Turning she put the milk back into the refrigerator and snickered at his retort about a pretty jailer, and shook her head. Were there pretty jailers? Glancing over her shoulder, “Got a handcuff kink?” She smirked, “I should have guessed.” A teasing glint flickered in her dark eyes as she closed the refrigerator, “It’s always the suits that a girl has to watch.”
She wasn’t prepared for him to drain half the glass of milk and toss back a bold flirtation at her. ‘What, no finance analyst fantasies? Surely you must be in the minority there?’ So he wanted to play did he? The imp on her shoulder was bouncing up and down encouraging her while the poor angel slumped defeated thinking, ‘here we go again’.
Stepping over, she invaded his space filling it with her small frame. With a hand resting on her hip, she let her eyes start at his bare feet and slowly trace upwards over every bulging curve and hard angle of his body until her puckish gaze settled on his intense blue eyes.
“I don’t waste time fantasizing when there is an opportunity right in front of me.” The corner of her lip lifted up showing a teasing dimple in her cheek and without blinking she asked, “Is it uncomfortable?” She waited for him to answer her before she clarified what she was asking about.
Half his? Achilleas wasn't entirely sure what he'd done that could have been classed as helping baking..he thought hed passed her a spatula and stood there feeling awkward talking about his life, but he was hungry, so he didn't argue. And when she commented on him banging on her door again, he wasn't sure what to say so had to shove the rest of the cake in his mouth to give him a reason to be silent, even as he considered that remark from every angle. She was just gregarious by nature; she was a hostess for god's sake. He nodded mutely and lifted his glass of milk in a mock toast to the idea.
He realised he'd used the cake far too early though when talk of handcuffs came around, and Achilleas stumbled his way through that conversation "Does that even count as a kink now?" he blustered. "Thought fluffy handcuffs were pretty vanilla these days."
Oh God what was he saying? But his stupid mouth was on a roll now, and then he was making some terrible joke about finance analysts even though he knew it was quite literally one of the unsexiest job titles in the history of the world. His brother had stated that the finance part of it might be enough to turn some women's heads until Achilleas had pointed out that they'd be sorely disappointed when they found out divorce had cost him a big chunk of whatever appeal his bank balance might have held at some point. It was fucking depressing when he thought about it.
But now he'd gone and said it anyway, just brazen like that and he was already inwardly panicking even before his neighbour had stepped right up into his space and just blatantly ogled him like that. Haa. She was better at this game than he was.
'I don't waste time fantasizing when there is an opportunity right in front of me.' Achilleas exhaled in a little whoosh, opening his mouth and then closing it because she was close now and that was precisely the kind of line he should have some flirty come back to. "Opportunity?" he found himself echoing dumbly as he tried and failed not to let his gaze drop to the little quirk of her lips and that dimple that he'd just noticed.
'Is it uncomfortable?'
"Huh?.... Is what uncomfortable?" he asked, wondering if he'd misheard something or tuned out whilst being distracted by the dimple.
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Half his? Achilleas wasn't entirely sure what he'd done that could have been classed as helping baking..he thought hed passed her a spatula and stood there feeling awkward talking about his life, but he was hungry, so he didn't argue. And when she commented on him banging on her door again, he wasn't sure what to say so had to shove the rest of the cake in his mouth to give him a reason to be silent, even as he considered that remark from every angle. She was just gregarious by nature; she was a hostess for god's sake. He nodded mutely and lifted his glass of milk in a mock toast to the idea.
He realised he'd used the cake far too early though when talk of handcuffs came around, and Achilleas stumbled his way through that conversation "Does that even count as a kink now?" he blustered. "Thought fluffy handcuffs were pretty vanilla these days."
Oh God what was he saying? But his stupid mouth was on a roll now, and then he was making some terrible joke about finance analysts even though he knew it was quite literally one of the unsexiest job titles in the history of the world. His brother had stated that the finance part of it might be enough to turn some women's heads until Achilleas had pointed out that they'd be sorely disappointed when they found out divorce had cost him a big chunk of whatever appeal his bank balance might have held at some point. It was fucking depressing when he thought about it.
But now he'd gone and said it anyway, just brazen like that and he was already inwardly panicking even before his neighbour had stepped right up into his space and just blatantly ogled him like that. Haa. She was better at this game than he was.
'I don't waste time fantasizing when there is an opportunity right in front of me.' Achilleas exhaled in a little whoosh, opening his mouth and then closing it because she was close now and that was precisely the kind of line he should have some flirty come back to. "Opportunity?" he found himself echoing dumbly as he tried and failed not to let his gaze drop to the little quirk of her lips and that dimple that he'd just noticed.
'Is it uncomfortable?'
"Huh?.... Is what uncomfortable?" he asked, wondering if he'd misheard something or tuned out whilst being distracted by the dimple.
Half his? Achilleas wasn't entirely sure what he'd done that could have been classed as helping baking..he thought hed passed her a spatula and stood there feeling awkward talking about his life, but he was hungry, so he didn't argue. And when she commented on him banging on her door again, he wasn't sure what to say so had to shove the rest of the cake in his mouth to give him a reason to be silent, even as he considered that remark from every angle. She was just gregarious by nature; she was a hostess for god's sake. He nodded mutely and lifted his glass of milk in a mock toast to the idea.
He realised he'd used the cake far too early though when talk of handcuffs came around, and Achilleas stumbled his way through that conversation "Does that even count as a kink now?" he blustered. "Thought fluffy handcuffs were pretty vanilla these days."
Oh God what was he saying? But his stupid mouth was on a roll now, and then he was making some terrible joke about finance analysts even though he knew it was quite literally one of the unsexiest job titles in the history of the world. His brother had stated that the finance part of it might be enough to turn some women's heads until Achilleas had pointed out that they'd be sorely disappointed when they found out divorce had cost him a big chunk of whatever appeal his bank balance might have held at some point. It was fucking depressing when he thought about it.
But now he'd gone and said it anyway, just brazen like that and he was already inwardly panicking even before his neighbour had stepped right up into his space and just blatantly ogled him like that. Haa. She was better at this game than he was.
'I don't waste time fantasizing when there is an opportunity right in front of me.' Achilleas exhaled in a little whoosh, opening his mouth and then closing it because she was close now and that was precisely the kind of line he should have some flirty come back to. "Opportunity?" he found himself echoing dumbly as he tried and failed not to let his gaze drop to the little quirk of her lips and that dimple that he'd just noticed.
'Is it uncomfortable?'
"Huh?.... Is what uncomfortable?" he asked, wondering if he'd misheard something or tuned out whilst being distracted by the dimple.
She followed him with her gaze as she told him that the cupcakes were half his. If she’d been perfectly honest she’d admit that she’d expected any sort of reaction but for half a moment she wondered if no one had ever given him an entire plate of cupcakes? Had no one ever let him lick the brownie bowl or steal raw cookie dough to nibble at while baking? No, that couldn’t be the case. So, she’d thrown in that comment about banging on her doors. The way he’d shoved the cake in his mouth, she was quite certain this is exactly what a deer would look like in headlights. It was entirely too adorable. So she let herself get carried away talking about kinks and fuzzy handcuffs.
‘Does that even count as a kink now?’ Her eyebrows rose at the brazen tone he was stumbling over, ‘Thought fluffy handcuffs were pretty vanilla these days.’ That triggered a throaty chuckle from her. Oh, he was delicious. How she’d like to wrap him up and put him into her pocket. Slanting her gaze over to him, her eyebrows raised up in a silent challenge to him. “Hmmm… Maybe you’re right.” There was a teasing sparkle in her eyes as she watched him again, “Kinks….” She murmured the word in thought and then added, “Personally, if you don’t break a few headboards, are kinks even worth the trouble?”
Giving him a wink, she tossed back her milk and set the glass on the island next to him with a soft clink before she ogled him. Being so close to him, the way the soft breath of air that whooshed out of him at her blatant flirtation, his mouth opened and she felt the adrenaline of the chase flash flooding in her veins. ‘Opportunity?’ His words echoed back and she couldn’t resist looking up into his electric blue gaze as she bit her lips despite the smile that was trying to tease her lips. Raising her eyebrows in reply to his question.
‘Huh?.... Is what uncomfortable?’ Yes, she liked him. He was positively adorable. Not in any hurry to answer the question, she simply just smiled up at him knowing the longer she didn’t answer the more uncomfortable it would be. Raising her eyebrows at him, her teeth caught her bottom lip. Mmm… He smells nice. It made her want to lean in for a closer sniff. He smelled like her soap. Taking a deep breath of the scent she smiled as she played with him a bit more, “Being in a stranger’s house?” The curve of her lip twisted up, let him know that she knew exactly what she was playing at.
Jutting her chin out she grinned up at him, “It’s rare that I have a hostage at my disposal. So, after sharing my cupcakes I’ve only got one thing I request.” There was a terribly wicked glimmer in her gaze, “I have this horrible addiction and…” She shrugged a little and looked away. It was a tiny bit embarrassing to admit this but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. Flicking her gaze up, she laughed. “It’s to board games, so relax. Want to play Twister? It’ll help balance out the sugar of the cupcakes.”
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She followed him with her gaze as she told him that the cupcakes were half his. If she’d been perfectly honest she’d admit that she’d expected any sort of reaction but for half a moment she wondered if no one had ever given him an entire plate of cupcakes? Had no one ever let him lick the brownie bowl or steal raw cookie dough to nibble at while baking? No, that couldn’t be the case. So, she’d thrown in that comment about banging on her doors. The way he’d shoved the cake in his mouth, she was quite certain this is exactly what a deer would look like in headlights. It was entirely too adorable. So she let herself get carried away talking about kinks and fuzzy handcuffs.
‘Does that even count as a kink now?’ Her eyebrows rose at the brazen tone he was stumbling over, ‘Thought fluffy handcuffs were pretty vanilla these days.’ That triggered a throaty chuckle from her. Oh, he was delicious. How she’d like to wrap him up and put him into her pocket. Slanting her gaze over to him, her eyebrows raised up in a silent challenge to him. “Hmmm… Maybe you’re right.” There was a teasing sparkle in her eyes as she watched him again, “Kinks….” She murmured the word in thought and then added, “Personally, if you don’t break a few headboards, are kinks even worth the trouble?”
Giving him a wink, she tossed back her milk and set the glass on the island next to him with a soft clink before she ogled him. Being so close to him, the way the soft breath of air that whooshed out of him at her blatant flirtation, his mouth opened and she felt the adrenaline of the chase flash flooding in her veins. ‘Opportunity?’ His words echoed back and she couldn’t resist looking up into his electric blue gaze as she bit her lips despite the smile that was trying to tease her lips. Raising her eyebrows in reply to his question.
‘Huh?.... Is what uncomfortable?’ Yes, she liked him. He was positively adorable. Not in any hurry to answer the question, she simply just smiled up at him knowing the longer she didn’t answer the more uncomfortable it would be. Raising her eyebrows at him, her teeth caught her bottom lip. Mmm… He smells nice. It made her want to lean in for a closer sniff. He smelled like her soap. Taking a deep breath of the scent she smiled as she played with him a bit more, “Being in a stranger’s house?” The curve of her lip twisted up, let him know that she knew exactly what she was playing at.
Jutting her chin out she grinned up at him, “It’s rare that I have a hostage at my disposal. So, after sharing my cupcakes I’ve only got one thing I request.” There was a terribly wicked glimmer in her gaze, “I have this horrible addiction and…” She shrugged a little and looked away. It was a tiny bit embarrassing to admit this but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. Flicking her gaze up, she laughed. “It’s to board games, so relax. Want to play Twister? It’ll help balance out the sugar of the cupcakes.”
She followed him with her gaze as she told him that the cupcakes were half his. If she’d been perfectly honest she’d admit that she’d expected any sort of reaction but for half a moment she wondered if no one had ever given him an entire plate of cupcakes? Had no one ever let him lick the brownie bowl or steal raw cookie dough to nibble at while baking? No, that couldn’t be the case. So, she’d thrown in that comment about banging on her doors. The way he’d shoved the cake in his mouth, she was quite certain this is exactly what a deer would look like in headlights. It was entirely too adorable. So she let herself get carried away talking about kinks and fuzzy handcuffs.
‘Does that even count as a kink now?’ Her eyebrows rose at the brazen tone he was stumbling over, ‘Thought fluffy handcuffs were pretty vanilla these days.’ That triggered a throaty chuckle from her. Oh, he was delicious. How she’d like to wrap him up and put him into her pocket. Slanting her gaze over to him, her eyebrows raised up in a silent challenge to him. “Hmmm… Maybe you’re right.” There was a teasing sparkle in her eyes as she watched him again, “Kinks….” She murmured the word in thought and then added, “Personally, if you don’t break a few headboards, are kinks even worth the trouble?”
Giving him a wink, she tossed back her milk and set the glass on the island next to him with a soft clink before she ogled him. Being so close to him, the way the soft breath of air that whooshed out of him at her blatant flirtation, his mouth opened and she felt the adrenaline of the chase flash flooding in her veins. ‘Opportunity?’ His words echoed back and she couldn’t resist looking up into his electric blue gaze as she bit her lips despite the smile that was trying to tease her lips. Raising her eyebrows in reply to his question.
‘Huh?.... Is what uncomfortable?’ Yes, she liked him. He was positively adorable. Not in any hurry to answer the question, she simply just smiled up at him knowing the longer she didn’t answer the more uncomfortable it would be. Raising her eyebrows at him, her teeth caught her bottom lip. Mmm… He smells nice. It made her want to lean in for a closer sniff. He smelled like her soap. Taking a deep breath of the scent she smiled as she played with him a bit more, “Being in a stranger’s house?” The curve of her lip twisted up, let him know that she knew exactly what she was playing at.
Jutting her chin out she grinned up at him, “It’s rare that I have a hostage at my disposal. So, after sharing my cupcakes I’ve only got one thing I request.” There was a terribly wicked glimmer in her gaze, “I have this horrible addiction and…” She shrugged a little and looked away. It was a tiny bit embarrassing to admit this but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. Flicking her gaze up, she laughed. “It’s to board games, so relax. Want to play Twister? It’ll help balance out the sugar of the cupcakes.”
He was suddenly painfully aware of how underdressed he was, barefooted and bare-chested and trying not to gawk at Evangelina and wonder just how she’d broken headboards. Plural. It simply wasn’t fair, now she was biting her lip, and he just wanted to lean in and give her something else to do with it.
Shit. She’d asked him a question, and it was a good job he had a mind that worked like a computer processor as he frantically rewound to locate the conversation subject to make it look like he’d been listening the whole time. Only...he didn’t understand what she meant and so ended up repeating it back to her to make sure he’d gotten it right and to pull his thoughts away from the direction they'd been drifting. The long pause made him think his recovery hadn’t been so smooth though, and Achilleas was trying to fill in the blanks in his head. All that he could think of was that awful chat-up line about it hurting when you fell from heaven, and he was pretty confident that wasn’t her style.
“...being in a stranger’s house?”
Right. Yes, that made more sense. Achilleas blinked and frowned a little, because she was smiling, teasing him, and he felt flustered.
“Yes. A bit.” he admitted “ Not that you haven’t been so very kind to let me intrude. And..uh..well I guess we know each other now at least?”
Likely far better than we might have done had he not been forced to come and knock on her door. He’d successfully avoided meeting any of the neighbours up until this point. But as his host went on it would seem that such hospitality did not come without a cost and the man tried - mostly successfully - to keep a neutral expression upon his face as she began to speak of a ‘horrible addiction’ and it would have been a lie to say he didn’t think that maybe this was it, maybe this was the moment when whatever psychotic tendencies she’d been hiding came to light. Perhaps she had a room full of china dolls or something? He hoped not.
The relief when she continued was palpable, so much so that he smiled and nodded before realising what he’d agreed to. “...sorry, wait did you say Twister? ”
Wasn’t that the game where you stood on a mat and contorted into strange positions? He couldn’t see the appeal. Only the furrow of concern between his brows did not dissipate because the idea seemed fraught with peril. Or, and he wasn’t sure what was worth, maybe it was ‘opportunity’. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and paused a beat before deciding that he was fit enough not to embarrass himself terribly. And the sugar and the coffee had left him a little jittery.
“Alright. But understand that this is under duress and not some sort of weekly game night you’re establishing here?” Besides, he had much longer reach than her, and surely that would mean the odds were in his favour?
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He was suddenly painfully aware of how underdressed he was, barefooted and bare-chested and trying not to gawk at Evangelina and wonder just how she’d broken headboards. Plural. It simply wasn’t fair, now she was biting her lip, and he just wanted to lean in and give her something else to do with it.
Shit. She’d asked him a question, and it was a good job he had a mind that worked like a computer processor as he frantically rewound to locate the conversation subject to make it look like he’d been listening the whole time. Only...he didn’t understand what she meant and so ended up repeating it back to her to make sure he’d gotten it right and to pull his thoughts away from the direction they'd been drifting. The long pause made him think his recovery hadn’t been so smooth though, and Achilleas was trying to fill in the blanks in his head. All that he could think of was that awful chat-up line about it hurting when you fell from heaven, and he was pretty confident that wasn’t her style.
“...being in a stranger’s house?”
Right. Yes, that made more sense. Achilleas blinked and frowned a little, because she was smiling, teasing him, and he felt flustered.
“Yes. A bit.” he admitted “ Not that you haven’t been so very kind to let me intrude. And..uh..well I guess we know each other now at least?”
Likely far better than we might have done had he not been forced to come and knock on her door. He’d successfully avoided meeting any of the neighbours up until this point. But as his host went on it would seem that such hospitality did not come without a cost and the man tried - mostly successfully - to keep a neutral expression upon his face as she began to speak of a ‘horrible addiction’ and it would have been a lie to say he didn’t think that maybe this was it, maybe this was the moment when whatever psychotic tendencies she’d been hiding came to light. Perhaps she had a room full of china dolls or something? He hoped not.
The relief when she continued was palpable, so much so that he smiled and nodded before realising what he’d agreed to. “...sorry, wait did you say Twister? ”
Wasn’t that the game where you stood on a mat and contorted into strange positions? He couldn’t see the appeal. Only the furrow of concern between his brows did not dissipate because the idea seemed fraught with peril. Or, and he wasn’t sure what was worth, maybe it was ‘opportunity’. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and paused a beat before deciding that he was fit enough not to embarrass himself terribly. And the sugar and the coffee had left him a little jittery.
“Alright. But understand that this is under duress and not some sort of weekly game night you’re establishing here?” Besides, he had much longer reach than her, and surely that would mean the odds were in his favour?
He was suddenly painfully aware of how underdressed he was, barefooted and bare-chested and trying not to gawk at Evangelina and wonder just how she’d broken headboards. Plural. It simply wasn’t fair, now she was biting her lip, and he just wanted to lean in and give her something else to do with it.
Shit. She’d asked him a question, and it was a good job he had a mind that worked like a computer processor as he frantically rewound to locate the conversation subject to make it look like he’d been listening the whole time. Only...he didn’t understand what she meant and so ended up repeating it back to her to make sure he’d gotten it right and to pull his thoughts away from the direction they'd been drifting. The long pause made him think his recovery hadn’t been so smooth though, and Achilleas was trying to fill in the blanks in his head. All that he could think of was that awful chat-up line about it hurting when you fell from heaven, and he was pretty confident that wasn’t her style.
“...being in a stranger’s house?”
Right. Yes, that made more sense. Achilleas blinked and frowned a little, because she was smiling, teasing him, and he felt flustered.
“Yes. A bit.” he admitted “ Not that you haven’t been so very kind to let me intrude. And..uh..well I guess we know each other now at least?”
Likely far better than we might have done had he not been forced to come and knock on her door. He’d successfully avoided meeting any of the neighbours up until this point. But as his host went on it would seem that such hospitality did not come without a cost and the man tried - mostly successfully - to keep a neutral expression upon his face as she began to speak of a ‘horrible addiction’ and it would have been a lie to say he didn’t think that maybe this was it, maybe this was the moment when whatever psychotic tendencies she’d been hiding came to light. Perhaps she had a room full of china dolls or something? He hoped not.
The relief when she continued was palpable, so much so that he smiled and nodded before realising what he’d agreed to. “...sorry, wait did you say Twister? ”
Wasn’t that the game where you stood on a mat and contorted into strange positions? He couldn’t see the appeal. Only the furrow of concern between his brows did not dissipate because the idea seemed fraught with peril. Or, and he wasn’t sure what was worth, maybe it was ‘opportunity’. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and paused a beat before deciding that he was fit enough not to embarrass himself terribly. And the sugar and the coffee had left him a little jittery.
“Alright. But understand that this is under duress and not some sort of weekly game night you’re establishing here?” Besides, he had much longer reach than her, and surely that would mean the odds were in his favour?
He wasn’t the only one painfully aware of how underdressed he was, she’d noticed it and it was a true test on her restraint to walk deeper into the lair of her living room. The man seemed to be having trouble processing her statement, so he parroted it back at her like some sort of question and not for the first time did she wonder if he was a bit stunted. Cute. But, perhaps a bit stunted.
‘Yes. A bit.’ His awkwardness broke a bit of the spell he’s bare chest had woven on her and she was able to look away and smile faintly. She really needed to get laid… she was getting weird. ‘Not that you haven’t been so very kind to let me intrude. And… uh… well I guess we know each other now at least?’ Evie turned her smile to him and snorted. “You seem a bit surprised that I would have taken you inside my home.” She shrugged walking further into her living room, “Why wouldn’t I? I am not the type to kick a puppy.”
The chestnut brown hair in her ponytail curled and fluffed up with it’s natural volume and swayed and swung with each bouncy, energetic step she took. Her living room was comfortable in a chic way. She curled her toes into the soft white shag carpet before she dropped down to the floor in one easy movement in front of her cream painted wood coffee table and slid the small barn doors back to reveal shelves hiding various board games within the coffee table.
Looking over her shoulder at him, ‘...Sorry, wait did you say Twister?’ She blinked again at him not sure what sort of addiction he’d been expecting her to say she had.
“Yessss… you know the game with the spinny wheel and you put your hands and feet on the colors that the wheel lands on.” She blinked again, wasn’t it a part of everyone’s childhood games. Turning back, she dug around and slid the box out from under a couple other games and held it up to show him much like a child might show their parents what Santa had brought them at Christmas. “See… Twister…” Her grin curled like the Grinch when he was plotting, “Why what were you expecting?” She couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more, “I keep my great aunt’s stuffed Siamese cats collection in the other room, I’m afraid.”
Dropping the game on the darker pine top of the coffee table next to a bowl with some sort of weaved stick balls, a fat white candle, and the latest trashy novel she was reading. Closing the little sliding doors she heaved herself to her feet and moved to the side of her room to a record player and dug through a record file and pulled out one and busied herself with putting a Jerry Lee Lewis record on. They needed the right sort of music to play Twister didn’t they? It was in the rules, she was sure of it.
“Oh, we are definitely going to do a weekly game night now…” She grinned as the first notes of Good Golly Miss Molly started to play. Maybe I had too much sugar with the cupcakes, hmmmm.... She thought as she danced across the floor, shaking and shimmying a little. She bumped one end of the coffee table towards the couch. There was a playful spark in her dark eyes, “Come on. Let’s move the coffee table and we can get the mat set up."
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He wasn’t the only one painfully aware of how underdressed he was, she’d noticed it and it was a true test on her restraint to walk deeper into the lair of her living room. The man seemed to be having trouble processing her statement, so he parroted it back at her like some sort of question and not for the first time did she wonder if he was a bit stunted. Cute. But, perhaps a bit stunted.
‘Yes. A bit.’ His awkwardness broke a bit of the spell he’s bare chest had woven on her and she was able to look away and smile faintly. She really needed to get laid… she was getting weird. ‘Not that you haven’t been so very kind to let me intrude. And… uh… well I guess we know each other now at least?’ Evie turned her smile to him and snorted. “You seem a bit surprised that I would have taken you inside my home.” She shrugged walking further into her living room, “Why wouldn’t I? I am not the type to kick a puppy.”
The chestnut brown hair in her ponytail curled and fluffed up with it’s natural volume and swayed and swung with each bouncy, energetic step she took. Her living room was comfortable in a chic way. She curled her toes into the soft white shag carpet before she dropped down to the floor in one easy movement in front of her cream painted wood coffee table and slid the small barn doors back to reveal shelves hiding various board games within the coffee table.
Looking over her shoulder at him, ‘...Sorry, wait did you say Twister?’ She blinked again at him not sure what sort of addiction he’d been expecting her to say she had.
“Yessss… you know the game with the spinny wheel and you put your hands and feet on the colors that the wheel lands on.” She blinked again, wasn’t it a part of everyone’s childhood games. Turning back, she dug around and slid the box out from under a couple other games and held it up to show him much like a child might show their parents what Santa had brought them at Christmas. “See… Twister…” Her grin curled like the Grinch when he was plotting, “Why what were you expecting?” She couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more, “I keep my great aunt’s stuffed Siamese cats collection in the other room, I’m afraid.”
Dropping the game on the darker pine top of the coffee table next to a bowl with some sort of weaved stick balls, a fat white candle, and the latest trashy novel she was reading. Closing the little sliding doors she heaved herself to her feet and moved to the side of her room to a record player and dug through a record file and pulled out one and busied herself with putting a Jerry Lee Lewis record on. They needed the right sort of music to play Twister didn’t they? It was in the rules, she was sure of it.
“Oh, we are definitely going to do a weekly game night now…” She grinned as the first notes of Good Golly Miss Molly started to play. Maybe I had too much sugar with the cupcakes, hmmmm.... She thought as she danced across the floor, shaking and shimmying a little. She bumped one end of the coffee table towards the couch. There was a playful spark in her dark eyes, “Come on. Let’s move the coffee table and we can get the mat set up."
He wasn’t the only one painfully aware of how underdressed he was, she’d noticed it and it was a true test on her restraint to walk deeper into the lair of her living room. The man seemed to be having trouble processing her statement, so he parroted it back at her like some sort of question and not for the first time did she wonder if he was a bit stunted. Cute. But, perhaps a bit stunted.
‘Yes. A bit.’ His awkwardness broke a bit of the spell he’s bare chest had woven on her and she was able to look away and smile faintly. She really needed to get laid… she was getting weird. ‘Not that you haven’t been so very kind to let me intrude. And… uh… well I guess we know each other now at least?’ Evie turned her smile to him and snorted. “You seem a bit surprised that I would have taken you inside my home.” She shrugged walking further into her living room, “Why wouldn’t I? I am not the type to kick a puppy.”
The chestnut brown hair in her ponytail curled and fluffed up with it’s natural volume and swayed and swung with each bouncy, energetic step she took. Her living room was comfortable in a chic way. She curled her toes into the soft white shag carpet before she dropped down to the floor in one easy movement in front of her cream painted wood coffee table and slid the small barn doors back to reveal shelves hiding various board games within the coffee table.
Looking over her shoulder at him, ‘...Sorry, wait did you say Twister?’ She blinked again at him not sure what sort of addiction he’d been expecting her to say she had.
“Yessss… you know the game with the spinny wheel and you put your hands and feet on the colors that the wheel lands on.” She blinked again, wasn’t it a part of everyone’s childhood games. Turning back, she dug around and slid the box out from under a couple other games and held it up to show him much like a child might show their parents what Santa had brought them at Christmas. “See… Twister…” Her grin curled like the Grinch when he was plotting, “Why what were you expecting?” She couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more, “I keep my great aunt’s stuffed Siamese cats collection in the other room, I’m afraid.”
Dropping the game on the darker pine top of the coffee table next to a bowl with some sort of weaved stick balls, a fat white candle, and the latest trashy novel she was reading. Closing the little sliding doors she heaved herself to her feet and moved to the side of her room to a record player and dug through a record file and pulled out one and busied herself with putting a Jerry Lee Lewis record on. They needed the right sort of music to play Twister didn’t they? It was in the rules, she was sure of it.
“Oh, we are definitely going to do a weekly game night now…” She grinned as the first notes of Good Golly Miss Molly started to play. Maybe I had too much sugar with the cupcakes, hmmmm.... She thought as she danced across the floor, shaking and shimmying a little. She bumped one end of the coffee table towards the couch. There was a playful spark in her dark eyes, “Come on. Let’s move the coffee table and we can get the mat set up."
He’d ambled after her into the living room. Still a little off-kilter with the flirting and then wondering what it was the made her equate him with a puppy instead of the serial killer he could have been.
Not that he wanted to come across a like a serial killer, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t sure he preferred puppy either. But he supposed he didn’t need to care what she thought. She might be cute but if she was about to reveal her collection of teapots dating from 1902 he was out of there. Or definitely wouldn’t be coming back once he could get back into his house. Twister seemed so tame in comparison to where his mind had gone, and he might have flushed a little bit when she called him out on that fact, confirming his guilt for thinking the worst of her. Though he didn’t think he could be blamed really. There were enough weirdos out there to make prudence advisable.
“ You see those shows you know…” he defended himself weakly, but she was already up and moving like a little whirlwind of energy and this time it seemed to be music that was required. It was turning into a very surreal night. Picking up the game box, he made a vague yet non-committal sound at the threat of ‘game night’ because what he was really doing was looking for the rules. Achilleas was a fan of rules. His intolerance for cheating had been at the heart of many aborted family monopoly games over the years.
A sudden burst of movement caught his eye, and he looked up to find Evie doing some odd dance walk back across the room. Smiling a tight, slightly alarmed smile, Achilleas did as he was bid and shunted the coffee table across the room because then he didn’t have to address the dancing. If that’s what it was.
When she’d shaken the mat out onto the floor, he glanced at the coloured circles and tried to shut off his mind from how ridiculous this all was. “Sure you don’t want to play scrabble or something instead?” he asked because Twister, as he recalled, entailed getting all sorts of close and personal and that seemed to be following a path he wasn’t at all certain it was wise to be on. She must have figured that out, right? He was being the gentleman in offering a chance to spare her blushes.
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He’d ambled after her into the living room. Still a little off-kilter with the flirting and then wondering what it was the made her equate him with a puppy instead of the serial killer he could have been.
Not that he wanted to come across a like a serial killer, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t sure he preferred puppy either. But he supposed he didn’t need to care what she thought. She might be cute but if she was about to reveal her collection of teapots dating from 1902 he was out of there. Or definitely wouldn’t be coming back once he could get back into his house. Twister seemed so tame in comparison to where his mind had gone, and he might have flushed a little bit when she called him out on that fact, confirming his guilt for thinking the worst of her. Though he didn’t think he could be blamed really. There were enough weirdos out there to make prudence advisable.
“ You see those shows you know…” he defended himself weakly, but she was already up and moving like a little whirlwind of energy and this time it seemed to be music that was required. It was turning into a very surreal night. Picking up the game box, he made a vague yet non-committal sound at the threat of ‘game night’ because what he was really doing was looking for the rules. Achilleas was a fan of rules. His intolerance for cheating had been at the heart of many aborted family monopoly games over the years.
A sudden burst of movement caught his eye, and he looked up to find Evie doing some odd dance walk back across the room. Smiling a tight, slightly alarmed smile, Achilleas did as he was bid and shunted the coffee table across the room because then he didn’t have to address the dancing. If that’s what it was.
When she’d shaken the mat out onto the floor, he glanced at the coloured circles and tried to shut off his mind from how ridiculous this all was. “Sure you don’t want to play scrabble or something instead?” he asked because Twister, as he recalled, entailed getting all sorts of close and personal and that seemed to be following a path he wasn’t at all certain it was wise to be on. She must have figured that out, right? He was being the gentleman in offering a chance to spare her blushes.
He’d ambled after her into the living room. Still a little off-kilter with the flirting and then wondering what it was the made her equate him with a puppy instead of the serial killer he could have been.
Not that he wanted to come across a like a serial killer, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t sure he preferred puppy either. But he supposed he didn’t need to care what she thought. She might be cute but if she was about to reveal her collection of teapots dating from 1902 he was out of there. Or definitely wouldn’t be coming back once he could get back into his house. Twister seemed so tame in comparison to where his mind had gone, and he might have flushed a little bit when she called him out on that fact, confirming his guilt for thinking the worst of her. Though he didn’t think he could be blamed really. There were enough weirdos out there to make prudence advisable.
“ You see those shows you know…” he defended himself weakly, but she was already up and moving like a little whirlwind of energy and this time it seemed to be music that was required. It was turning into a very surreal night. Picking up the game box, he made a vague yet non-committal sound at the threat of ‘game night’ because what he was really doing was looking for the rules. Achilleas was a fan of rules. His intolerance for cheating had been at the heart of many aborted family monopoly games over the years.
A sudden burst of movement caught his eye, and he looked up to find Evie doing some odd dance walk back across the room. Smiling a tight, slightly alarmed smile, Achilleas did as he was bid and shunted the coffee table across the room because then he didn’t have to address the dancing. If that’s what it was.
When she’d shaken the mat out onto the floor, he glanced at the coloured circles and tried to shut off his mind from how ridiculous this all was. “Sure you don’t want to play scrabble or something instead?” he asked because Twister, as he recalled, entailed getting all sorts of close and personal and that seemed to be following a path he wasn’t at all certain it was wise to be on. She must have figured that out, right? He was being the gentleman in offering a chance to spare her blushes.
Would it have unsettled her neighbor greatly to know that the average person walked past 16 murderers in their lifetime? Evangelina felt that number for her was probably a little on the low side considering that as a flight attendant she was exposed to a greater amount of people than the average person was. All things considered, while he was a hulk of a man who could probably lift her up with one arm he had looked quite miserable there ringing her doorbell soaking wet.
‘You see those shows you know…’ He muttered from somewhere behind her buzzing body and she flicked a glance over at him. Was that what he did with his free time? Sit in his little empty house, drinking his green smoothies and watching shows about weirdos? It was the first time that evening she really felt her own eyebrows lift upwards towards the sky at that thought. Who was the real weirdo now?
Blinking she tried to push that thought out of her mind. It would be her luck that the sweet puppy looking neighbor next door who’d shown up on her doorstep without a hidden poo lock that he would be the weird one in this relationship.
“I… Uh… don’t really watch those sorts of shows.” She managed out before she quickly started bustling about and trying to fix the perfect spot for them to play twister.
Turning on music she danced about clearing the space and only occasionally sliding a curious gaze at him. He was going through the game box as if he wasn’t all that familiar with the game inside it. It dawned on her then what he was looking for. That thin little sheet of paper that outlined all of the rules of the game. She inwardly snorted, he’d be lucky if he found the rules in that box.
She laid out the mat with ease, her ponytail bopping along like some poodle-skirt wearing extra from Grease. Glancing up at him, she paused… He didn’t look the least bit prepared to play twister. In fact, he looked rigid like she’d told him she was going to practice her acupuncture on him or something. This was going to be interesting, she thought half amused to herself.
‘Sure you don’t want to play scrabble or something instead?’
Her lips parted devilishly and she let her dark eyes scan slowly over him before she answered, “Maybe after I kick your butt in Twister.” She tossed him a sinister wink and bent at the waist letting her calves stretch and her back curl. “Did you ever find the rules you were looking for?” Her voice dropping to a low throaty tease as her hands laid flat against the floor in almost a downward dog position.
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Would it have unsettled her neighbor greatly to know that the average person walked past 16 murderers in their lifetime? Evangelina felt that number for her was probably a little on the low side considering that as a flight attendant she was exposed to a greater amount of people than the average person was. All things considered, while he was a hulk of a man who could probably lift her up with one arm he had looked quite miserable there ringing her doorbell soaking wet.
‘You see those shows you know…’ He muttered from somewhere behind her buzzing body and she flicked a glance over at him. Was that what he did with his free time? Sit in his little empty house, drinking his green smoothies and watching shows about weirdos? It was the first time that evening she really felt her own eyebrows lift upwards towards the sky at that thought. Who was the real weirdo now?
Blinking she tried to push that thought out of her mind. It would be her luck that the sweet puppy looking neighbor next door who’d shown up on her doorstep without a hidden poo lock that he would be the weird one in this relationship.
“I… Uh… don’t really watch those sorts of shows.” She managed out before she quickly started bustling about and trying to fix the perfect spot for them to play twister.
Turning on music she danced about clearing the space and only occasionally sliding a curious gaze at him. He was going through the game box as if he wasn’t all that familiar with the game inside it. It dawned on her then what he was looking for. That thin little sheet of paper that outlined all of the rules of the game. She inwardly snorted, he’d be lucky if he found the rules in that box.
She laid out the mat with ease, her ponytail bopping along like some poodle-skirt wearing extra from Grease. Glancing up at him, she paused… He didn’t look the least bit prepared to play twister. In fact, he looked rigid like she’d told him she was going to practice her acupuncture on him or something. This was going to be interesting, she thought half amused to herself.
‘Sure you don’t want to play scrabble or something instead?’
Her lips parted devilishly and she let her dark eyes scan slowly over him before she answered, “Maybe after I kick your butt in Twister.” She tossed him a sinister wink and bent at the waist letting her calves stretch and her back curl. “Did you ever find the rules you were looking for?” Her voice dropping to a low throaty tease as her hands laid flat against the floor in almost a downward dog position.
Would it have unsettled her neighbor greatly to know that the average person walked past 16 murderers in their lifetime? Evangelina felt that number for her was probably a little on the low side considering that as a flight attendant she was exposed to a greater amount of people than the average person was. All things considered, while he was a hulk of a man who could probably lift her up with one arm he had looked quite miserable there ringing her doorbell soaking wet.
‘You see those shows you know…’ He muttered from somewhere behind her buzzing body and she flicked a glance over at him. Was that what he did with his free time? Sit in his little empty house, drinking his green smoothies and watching shows about weirdos? It was the first time that evening she really felt her own eyebrows lift upwards towards the sky at that thought. Who was the real weirdo now?
Blinking she tried to push that thought out of her mind. It would be her luck that the sweet puppy looking neighbor next door who’d shown up on her doorstep without a hidden poo lock that he would be the weird one in this relationship.
“I… Uh… don’t really watch those sorts of shows.” She managed out before she quickly started bustling about and trying to fix the perfect spot for them to play twister.
Turning on music she danced about clearing the space and only occasionally sliding a curious gaze at him. He was going through the game box as if he wasn’t all that familiar with the game inside it. It dawned on her then what he was looking for. That thin little sheet of paper that outlined all of the rules of the game. She inwardly snorted, he’d be lucky if he found the rules in that box.
She laid out the mat with ease, her ponytail bopping along like some poodle-skirt wearing extra from Grease. Glancing up at him, she paused… He didn’t look the least bit prepared to play twister. In fact, he looked rigid like she’d told him she was going to practice her acupuncture on him or something. This was going to be interesting, she thought half amused to herself.
‘Sure you don’t want to play scrabble or something instead?’
Her lips parted devilishly and she let her dark eyes scan slowly over him before she answered, “Maybe after I kick your butt in Twister.” She tossed him a sinister wink and bent at the waist letting her calves stretch and her back curl. “Did you ever find the rules you were looking for?” Her voice dropping to a low throaty tease as her hands laid flat against the floor in almost a downward dog position.
The way she said ‘I don’t really watch those kind of shows’ made Achilleas feel like he’d just confessed to watching porn or something, and wondered for a moment if he’d not said what he intended to say. But as replayed the conversation, he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything else.
Great, now he was a weirdo for occasionally tuning into that trashy ‘Hoarders’ show when he got in late, and the house was too quiet. Frowning a little, he refrained from pointing out that she ate frosting out of the can and apparently had an Orlando Bloom blanket so perhaps she shouldn’t judge, and instead busied himself trying to find the rules for whatever game he was being subjected to.
He couldn’t find them, which set his OCD jangling because why weren’t they in the box? How could you play a game without the rules, and he got a sinking feeling that perhaps his neighbour was one of those chaotic people that didn’t put DVDs back in their cases and left crumbs in the low-fat olive oil spread.
The vision of it was still haunting him as he watched her layout the nasty plastic mat and tried, unsuccessfully, to suggest a game that didn’t seem so fraught with peril. Only his neighbour looked at him like she knew something he didn’t, and Achilleas gave a laugh which didn’t sound nearly as uncomfortable as he felt before he had to look away.
Oh, so she was also very bendy. Gooooood to know. He was going to play twister with a flexible hostess, and it was going to end in disaster he was sure of it. Why had he agreed to this? The small, carefree part of him that was mostly silent observed that only an actual idiot would refuse such an offering, and Achilleas was chewing anxiously in the inside of his cheek when she rudely interrupted his inner freak out.
‘Did you ever find the rules you were looking for?’
“No” he answered, sounding slightly offended by the fact. “ Don’t you keep them with[/] the game? Isn’t that sort of the idea? I’m going to have to take your word for it that you aren’t cheating.”
He could vaguely recall what to do based on some hazy memories from college, but that was beside the point. Picking up the spinner and flicking the arrow, so it spun, he glanced back to Evie as a though struck him.
“We don’t have anyone to spin the thing. How does that work?”
Unable to decide if he was relieved or upset at the notion that maybe they wouldn’t be able to play, he looked expectantly at his host.
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The way she said ‘I don’t really watch those kind of shows’ made Achilleas feel like he’d just confessed to watching porn or something, and wondered for a moment if he’d not said what he intended to say. But as replayed the conversation, he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything else.
Great, now he was a weirdo for occasionally tuning into that trashy ‘Hoarders’ show when he got in late, and the house was too quiet. Frowning a little, he refrained from pointing out that she ate frosting out of the can and apparently had an Orlando Bloom blanket so perhaps she shouldn’t judge, and instead busied himself trying to find the rules for whatever game he was being subjected to.
He couldn’t find them, which set his OCD jangling because why weren’t they in the box? How could you play a game without the rules, and he got a sinking feeling that perhaps his neighbour was one of those chaotic people that didn’t put DVDs back in their cases and left crumbs in the low-fat olive oil spread.
The vision of it was still haunting him as he watched her layout the nasty plastic mat and tried, unsuccessfully, to suggest a game that didn’t seem so fraught with peril. Only his neighbour looked at him like she knew something he didn’t, and Achilleas gave a laugh which didn’t sound nearly as uncomfortable as he felt before he had to look away.
Oh, so she was also very bendy. Gooooood to know. He was going to play twister with a flexible hostess, and it was going to end in disaster he was sure of it. Why had he agreed to this? The small, carefree part of him that was mostly silent observed that only an actual idiot would refuse such an offering, and Achilleas was chewing anxiously in the inside of his cheek when she rudely interrupted his inner freak out.
‘Did you ever find the rules you were looking for?’
“No” he answered, sounding slightly offended by the fact. “ Don’t you keep them with[/] the game? Isn’t that sort of the idea? I’m going to have to take your word for it that you aren’t cheating.”
He could vaguely recall what to do based on some hazy memories from college, but that was beside the point. Picking up the spinner and flicking the arrow, so it spun, he glanced back to Evie as a though struck him.
“We don’t have anyone to spin the thing. How does that work?”
Unable to decide if he was relieved or upset at the notion that maybe they wouldn’t be able to play, he looked expectantly at his host.
The way she said ‘I don’t really watch those kind of shows’ made Achilleas feel like he’d just confessed to watching porn or something, and wondered for a moment if he’d not said what he intended to say. But as replayed the conversation, he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything else.
Great, now he was a weirdo for occasionally tuning into that trashy ‘Hoarders’ show when he got in late, and the house was too quiet. Frowning a little, he refrained from pointing out that she ate frosting out of the can and apparently had an Orlando Bloom blanket so perhaps she shouldn’t judge, and instead busied himself trying to find the rules for whatever game he was being subjected to.
He couldn’t find them, which set his OCD jangling because why weren’t they in the box? How could you play a game without the rules, and he got a sinking feeling that perhaps his neighbour was one of those chaotic people that didn’t put DVDs back in their cases and left crumbs in the low-fat olive oil spread.
The vision of it was still haunting him as he watched her layout the nasty plastic mat and tried, unsuccessfully, to suggest a game that didn’t seem so fraught with peril. Only his neighbour looked at him like she knew something he didn’t, and Achilleas gave a laugh which didn’t sound nearly as uncomfortable as he felt before he had to look away.
Oh, so she was also very bendy. Gooooood to know. He was going to play twister with a flexible hostess, and it was going to end in disaster he was sure of it. Why had he agreed to this? The small, carefree part of him that was mostly silent observed that only an actual idiot would refuse such an offering, and Achilleas was chewing anxiously in the inside of his cheek when she rudely interrupted his inner freak out.
‘Did you ever find the rules you were looking for?’
“No” he answered, sounding slightly offended by the fact. “ Don’t you keep them with[/] the game? Isn’t that sort of the idea? I’m going to have to take your word for it that you aren’t cheating.”
He could vaguely recall what to do based on some hazy memories from college, but that was beside the point. Picking up the spinner and flicking the arrow, so it spun, he glanced back to Evie as a though struck him.
“We don’t have anyone to spin the thing. How does that work?”
Unable to decide if he was relieved or upset at the notion that maybe they wouldn’t be able to play, he looked expectantly at his host.
It was easy to forget about the world outside right now. Evie enjoyed her privacy to dance around in flamingo pajama shorts or eat canned frosting for breakfast, but it didn’t make her immune to the mean reds. Those were the days she didn’t want to be alone in a quiet house at two o’clock in the morning. No one ever talked about the mean reds when you were a child. In fact, Evie could distinctly remember wishing she’d been a grown up and able to be on her own and a way from her family. She’d wished for the independence to be able to do all of the things she could do now but it wasn’t quite the same. No one had told her that with the independence came days where a fear would settle over her and she wouldn’t have the slightest idea what it was that she was scared of, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she was scared and for the most part she was alone.
So the moment he’d turned up at her house soaking wet and looking as miserable as she felt deep down in her core she’d been happy. Happy to have a distraction. Happy that for at least a little while she could put down that creeping fear and turmoil that liked those quiet morning hours. And for a little while, she could be silly at least for a few hours and not have to examine what it was that she was missing in her life.
Lifting her head up, she looked at him from almost the ground at the displeasure in his voice at not finding the rules. It didn’t really surprise Evangelina though, she’d gotten the game second hand at one of the neighbor’s yard sales and hadn’t really thought twice about looking for rules in it. She’d just assumed everyone knew how the game was played.
‘Don’t you keep them with the game? Isn’t that sort of the idea? I’m going to have to take your word for it that you aren’t cheating.’
Slowly, she started to pull each of her vertebrae’s back into alignment and straight herself.
“I mean… yeah that is usually what people do but I bought the game at a yard sale and didn’t bother to check to see if the rules were there.” She shrugged and then shot him a grin, “Cheat? Me? Never!” She wasn’t entirely sure how you could cheat at Twister but it did start her to examine loopholes in the rules that she knew.
He met her gaze and she shot him another grin. ‘We don’t have anyone to spin the thing. How does that work?’ Her mouth opened to tell him about the one hand addendum she was going to add to the rules to allow a hand free to spin but the words never made it out of her mouth.
An angry flash of brilliant white light filled the space on the other side of her living room window and shook the house rattling the window. Sparks flew with a loud boom chasing the light before suddenly everything in the house went dark.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was easy to forget about the world outside right now. Evie enjoyed her privacy to dance around in flamingo pajama shorts or eat canned frosting for breakfast, but it didn’t make her immune to the mean reds. Those were the days she didn’t want to be alone in a quiet house at two o’clock in the morning. No one ever talked about the mean reds when you were a child. In fact, Evie could distinctly remember wishing she’d been a grown up and able to be on her own and a way from her family. She’d wished for the independence to be able to do all of the things she could do now but it wasn’t quite the same. No one had told her that with the independence came days where a fear would settle over her and she wouldn’t have the slightest idea what it was that she was scared of, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she was scared and for the most part she was alone.
So the moment he’d turned up at her house soaking wet and looking as miserable as she felt deep down in her core she’d been happy. Happy to have a distraction. Happy that for at least a little while she could put down that creeping fear and turmoil that liked those quiet morning hours. And for a little while, she could be silly at least for a few hours and not have to examine what it was that she was missing in her life.
Lifting her head up, she looked at him from almost the ground at the displeasure in his voice at not finding the rules. It didn’t really surprise Evangelina though, she’d gotten the game second hand at one of the neighbor’s yard sales and hadn’t really thought twice about looking for rules in it. She’d just assumed everyone knew how the game was played.
‘Don’t you keep them with the game? Isn’t that sort of the idea? I’m going to have to take your word for it that you aren’t cheating.’
Slowly, she started to pull each of her vertebrae’s back into alignment and straight herself.
“I mean… yeah that is usually what people do but I bought the game at a yard sale and didn’t bother to check to see if the rules were there.” She shrugged and then shot him a grin, “Cheat? Me? Never!” She wasn’t entirely sure how you could cheat at Twister but it did start her to examine loopholes in the rules that she knew.
He met her gaze and she shot him another grin. ‘We don’t have anyone to spin the thing. How does that work?’ Her mouth opened to tell him about the one hand addendum she was going to add to the rules to allow a hand free to spin but the words never made it out of her mouth.
An angry flash of brilliant white light filled the space on the other side of her living room window and shook the house rattling the window. Sparks flew with a loud boom chasing the light before suddenly everything in the house went dark.
It was easy to forget about the world outside right now. Evie enjoyed her privacy to dance around in flamingo pajama shorts or eat canned frosting for breakfast, but it didn’t make her immune to the mean reds. Those were the days she didn’t want to be alone in a quiet house at two o’clock in the morning. No one ever talked about the mean reds when you were a child. In fact, Evie could distinctly remember wishing she’d been a grown up and able to be on her own and a way from her family. She’d wished for the independence to be able to do all of the things she could do now but it wasn’t quite the same. No one had told her that with the independence came days where a fear would settle over her and she wouldn’t have the slightest idea what it was that she was scared of, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she was scared and for the most part she was alone.
So the moment he’d turned up at her house soaking wet and looking as miserable as she felt deep down in her core she’d been happy. Happy to have a distraction. Happy that for at least a little while she could put down that creeping fear and turmoil that liked those quiet morning hours. And for a little while, she could be silly at least for a few hours and not have to examine what it was that she was missing in her life.
Lifting her head up, she looked at him from almost the ground at the displeasure in his voice at not finding the rules. It didn’t really surprise Evangelina though, she’d gotten the game second hand at one of the neighbor’s yard sales and hadn’t really thought twice about looking for rules in it. She’d just assumed everyone knew how the game was played.
‘Don’t you keep them with the game? Isn’t that sort of the idea? I’m going to have to take your word for it that you aren’t cheating.’
Slowly, she started to pull each of her vertebrae’s back into alignment and straight herself.
“I mean… yeah that is usually what people do but I bought the game at a yard sale and didn’t bother to check to see if the rules were there.” She shrugged and then shot him a grin, “Cheat? Me? Never!” She wasn’t entirely sure how you could cheat at Twister but it did start her to examine loopholes in the rules that she knew.
He met her gaze and she shot him another grin. ‘We don’t have anyone to spin the thing. How does that work?’ Her mouth opened to tell him about the one hand addendum she was going to add to the rules to allow a hand free to spin but the words never made it out of her mouth.
An angry flash of brilliant white light filled the space on the other side of her living room window and shook the house rattling the window. Sparks flew with a loud boom chasing the light before suddenly everything in the house went dark.
