Leaf looks at me with blank, green eyes.
Sighing, I say, “You think we should let Rosie back into the apartment?”
Leaf hops off the couch and starts walking towards the front door.
“I’m not happy with him, but we’re not exactly fluffy and domestic. Minus adopting you, I guess that is pretty soft, right?”
Leaf meows a sound like sandpaper against a chalkboard as if to say, “I’m a cat remember?”
“Maybe I’ll just go talk to him,” I decide.
In a few steps, I’m at Kas’ door. I knock, and half a second later, he’s in front of me, dressed in a loose fitting tunic.
“Ugh, finally,” he says.
He moves aside, and I see deeper into his apartment. It’s not so different from my own, minus the decorations: gold statues of figures with multiple arms doing yoga, thick curtains over the windows, and plush black leather furniture. Though one the couches looks more like an art installation than a couch…
Rosier lays on one of the couches like a corpse, flat on his back with his face blank.
“He’s been moping for hours,” Kas complains.
Rosier’s rumbling voice assures me he’s not actually dead on that couch. “I amnotmoping.”
Kas rolls his eyes.
“I’m bored,” Rosier insists. “You bore me.”
Kas covers his heart with his hand and makes a mock offended sound. “Wow. I’m going to have to remember to cry about that later.” He steps into his apartment, and I follow, the sweet smell of jasmine and lilies hitting my nose. “If you two could work things out so I don’t have to cancel on my guests tonight…” He meanders into his kitchen, perhaps to give us some sense of privacy.
I walk to Rosier and sit on the edge of the couch near his head. Minus his eyes, he doesn’t move a muscle, like laying here for a few hours has turned him to stone. I realize then that I’m not sure what to say to him.
I finally settle on, “Leaf misses you.”
“Did he tell you that?” Rosier asks.
“He did, actually.”
Both of us let our guard down for a moment, smiles appearing then disappearing like a specter.
“So,” I begin, “I have an idea–”
He lets out a dramatic moan and covers his eyes with his forearm. “Minnie, the contract–”
“It’s not about contracts,” I explain. “Revenge or not, I want to confront my Father.”
Rosier snorts, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Why?”
“I want him to apologize for everything he did to my Mom. Everything he didn’t do for us. He’s a powerful witch trying to become immortal. Surely he could have given my Mom a potion or charm–something to slow the curse, or something to make her passing on less… terrible. And on top of that I’ll have a devil at my beck and call.”
“Except I’m not at your beck and call.”
“Not yet.”
Rosier slides his arm off his eyes and looks… amused?
Kas calls to us from the kitchen. “Count yourself lucky, Rosie. At least Minnie isn’t asking you to start a war or something.”
I stand up and make my way over to the kitchen island. “What do you think, Kas?”
