What do you want to know? Where does one even begin?In between pots of soil and jam on toast. In packs of gummy worms and the rolled credits of my favourite movies. In the inconsequential photos that seemed to pop up on my phone during lectures or when I was studying. In the stolen glances and fought against laughs, Thallor had quickly become my favourite thing. It was funny how a smile here and a smirk there seemed to chip away at my cynicism like it was mere glass. It was like I had spent allmy life seeing in black and white, and now everywhere I look, I see fiery red and eyes that could melt hearts.
“He’s just a friend, Grandma.” My tone was firm. Resolute. As if I was trying to convince everyone in the room, including myself. Because there was no reality in which a demon and a human ended up together. And even if there were, I was not sure he would even want that. How many pacts had he found himself in over his lifetime?And how many of those pacts had been women?
Nope. Not the train of thought to follow.
“Hmmm,” Maura muses.
I fight the tugging at my lips. “What ‘hmmm’?”
“That smile you’re fighting doesn’t sayfriend,either.” I pulled my hand away from hers in mock outrage, and at the same time, my phone buzzed.
“Andthatisn’t the behaviour of a boy who thinks of you as a friend either,” Maura chuckled to herself in clear satisfaction. But her joke didn’t reach me. In fact, I’m not sure I heard it at all. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and everything temporarily paused as I stared down at my phone. There was no text. No message.
Just one photo.
One photo of yellow tulips.
What was probably very inconsequential to Thallor felt like something momentous to me. It was something I had mentioned in passing because they were Maura’s favourite flowers. I could rarely afford to buy them, but I would often admire them when we saw them at the grocery store. And now they were sat, unassuming and quiet, in a vase on my kitchen counter. To me, my lingering stares and the passing remark had been just that—a small comment made in a conversation that now felt so incredibly profound.
The tulips weren’t just flowers to Maura. They meant moreto her than that. Not only were they the flowers my grandfather had brought with him on their first date, but they were also the flowers that marked the true beginning of spring. For a gardener like my grandmother, spring was always her favourite time of year. When all the hard work in winter came to fruition in a symphony of colour that seemed to plaster a permanent smile on her face.
I wasn’t entirely sure why it was theyellowthat she loved so much. It just seemed to make her happy. But to me, the colour reflected everything that Maura was. Warm and joyful and happy. Even now, she did everything with a smile on her face.
I let my surroundings come back to me slowly as I looked up at Maura. “I promise it’s not like that.”
But my voice barely came out louder than a whisper.
“What is it like then?”
I’m not quite sure.
We had donethe same song and dance before, and I knew better than to ask Thallor what he thought of my outfit as I stepped into the living room. The sound of my black heel boots clicking against the wooden floor reverberated through the space, announcing my presence before I had a chance to.
My first date with Jude had been relatively uneventful.
Between a variety of pastries and a decaf latte–something Jude had alluded to being for children and people who had no business drinking coffee–Jude updated me on his time back home over Christmas. I hadn’t realised how truly well off he was until he started name-dropping celebrities he’d bumped into and a few of the extravagant events he’d attended, including a NewYear’s Eve party–one with giftbag goodies that could be sold to fund several years’ worth of rent or collectively solve world hunger. I tried to ignore the lingering notion that he had suggestedwego out on New Year’s Eve, only to call me up the day before and say he got caught up withthingsback home.
Despite my overthinking, my anxiety hadn’t gotten the best of me–thank you, decaf coffee.I’d smile sweetly, nod along to what he was saying with an appropriate level of enthusiasm, and laugh at the right times, which seemed to afford me a second date. One that was necessary to keep my thoughts from wandering back to Thallor at every possible opportunity. And given that Isaac was still giving me the silent treatment a week later, a distraction was definitely what I needed. It’s why I was standing in my kitchen in a delicate white, sheer embroidered mini skirt with a ruffled hem instead of a mechanics shirt or graphic tee.
I’d paired the skirt with a black corset that pulled in at the waist and laced up with a bit of string. It did wonders for my ego, creating the illusion that I had more breasts than I really did. I had decided to forgo the jacket, given that Jude had said he would pick me up. I paced around the kitchen, trying to stave off any nervousness at the same time my phone buzzed. A moment of reprieve from my thoughts was gifted to me in the form of Esme and Nick and their relentless texting.
Nick: You are going on a date and I quit !!
Nick: I am loving this new chapter for us.
Quincey: You quit?! Ah, Nick, I am so happy to hear that! What are you going to be doing?
Quincey: I miss you!
Nick: I miss you too! Moving to a place nearerto Andrew :)
Ezzy: Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my best friend?
Ezzy: ARE YOU WEARING A BLACK THONG?
Quincey: That was not intentional, I just haven’t done any laundry. Does it look bad?
Ezzy: He’ll be dragging his jaw across the floor all night.
