Page 20 of Lilies from Hell

“Only when I get hurt.” I didn’t like her answer at all. No one but me should kiss her wounds. I looked down at her hands so I wouldn’t think about her nanny being killed by my precious knife. They were small and looked soft. Like those of a porcelain doll.

“My head hurts.” I said with a feigned, pained expression. If I wanted to keep her by my side a little longer, I would have to come up with some excuse.

“I think we should go to the nurse.”

“No. That’s not necessary. I just need to rest a little. It would be nice if you could stay for a while to talk.”

“Would that make you feel better?” I nodded.

“I have class. If I don’t go, they’ll scold me.”

“They won’t.” What I said wasn’t enough to convince her either. “Please.” I forced myself to speak.

I hardly ever asked for things. My father had gotten me used to having whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it, as long as I didn’t cause him any trouble and obeyed him. Why couldn’t it be the same with her?

“All right. But then you have to give me one of those candies you gave me the other day.”

“I don’t have any,” I said.

“Then no.”

“Okay. I’ll give it to you.” She turned around with a big smile on her face and sat down next to me.

“What do you want to talk about?”

I attempted to breathe as little as possible. I didn’t want to suffer the consequences of smelling her scent too. Her closeness and the trace of her lips left on my nose were more than enough.

“About you.”

“About me?” she asked with confusion.

“Yes. I want to know everything about you.” She looked at me as if I had grown another eye in the middle of my forehead.

“You’re weird.”

“What’s your name?” I asked, ignoring what she said. I wasn’t strange. I just wanted to know more about her.

“Lena Easton. And you?”

I repeated her name in my head. It sounded very nice.

“Alekei. Alek.”

“Alex,” she repeated firmly.

“No, Alek.”

“I like Alex better,” she replied, making me purse my lips in an annoyed pout, but I let it go. She could call me whatever she wanted if it meant I could learn every little detail about her.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Nine. You?”

“Thirteen.” I heard her gasp.

“You’re so old.”

“I’m not.”