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Barbeque
"You've been waiting for it all this time. Here's yours, sweet girl."
Roger's glare at least made Moreau unable to refrain from bursting into laughter. The man had been busy in front of the grill, smelling of smoke, accompanying Abihirt who didn't say much, but that was how they mingled; not to leave a suspicious impression, so Barbara could casually carry on a conversation with Gloriya on the terrace. The women were preparing the spices-now it was time to rest. Moreau should have done the same. However, she decided to engage in the busiest activities, such as currently holding a tray of three plates with a few pieces of cooked meat, and the rest at Gloriya and Barbara's request. "Thank you, Chef Roger. You were very gracious tonight." She added as she prepared to leave the two grown men there. There was no intention of insinuating Abihirt. The words came out of nowhere and she did not expect the gray eyes to stare at her for a moment. It was too short. Perhaps MoRelated chapters
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Impatiently, Moreau's arms moved to simply slice the rib meat into pieces. She would leave the most tender ones for the end. Now it was necessary to add Gloriya's homemade chili sauce on the side, despite feeling even hungrier as she inhaled the aroma that wafted across the surface deeply. The first mouthful was engulfed in a peaceful sweep like the explosion of a worn-out sensation, but Moreau barely felt it. As if the word busy was the first to describe if—then... there was hardly an agenda like this on Barbara's bucket list. It was only when the woman returned to marriage that a desire was awakened so briefly. Still with the need to chew, savoring the various touches that exploded. Moreau circulated her gaze to trace every corner of the place. The conversation between Barbara and Gloriya did not seem to be ending soon. She wasn't interested enough in just finding out, immediately moving her attention to Abihirt's form there. The man was no longer in front of t
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Was Barbara willing to believe? Or had she been caught in the act of staring at Abihirt almost unblinkingly? Here's hoping those two parts are nothing. Yes, they were. Moreau hoped it wasn't. It wasn't something in her that was letting go. She didn't want to face a big problem, even if there was already a crack that needed to be patched. Supposedly walking without attracting the attention of a few people... was more than enough. Moreau instinctively tucked a lock of hair behind her ear in an attempt to calm half the tension. They were already so close. Maybe one or two steps away. The woman's sharp expression evoked horrible things in the top of her head. Trying not to stare directly was the right choice. "Where are you going? I see you haven't finished your food yet. Don't bring your habits at home to this place." Moreau's body instantly jerked. An exhale almost resembled something harsh, hanging at the tip of her throat as she and Barbara made eye contact
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"What are you doing here?" She asked skeptically, adding a bit of anticipation considering the man's basic demeanor was powered by real sources. Froy had declared a monstrous desire—which would quickly become a food chain scourge. It was a miracle if Moreau still had a single functioning nerve until tonight to deal with things; it sickened her to no end. "This is the kitchen. Anyone has the right to come here." That was Froy's statement. Calm, but somewhat sarcastic. There was a way to learn how to convey objections with subtle expressions. By the time the man did so, Moreau was hoping Froy would understand the bitterest part of irony. "When did you get to the countryside?" She was just trying not to send something home by pulling it up, then throwing it over a cliff. Whatever if it turned out that Froy had a specific purpose in mind, it was best that the man not do anything out of the blue. "Just now, it happened to coincide when you stepped into the h
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"Why, Froy?" "What does that have to do with you?" "You once cheated on me behind my back." "I told you, we have no relationship. Why are you trying so hard to be a good ex? Or is it because when we were dating... you never had genuine intentions for me, but thought that I would fall as deeply as you imagined. So, you feel that I should never forget you so quickly?" It was already too long. Moreau understood that she had to restrain herself even realizing that the torrent that escaped her lips had made Froy's face turn dark. The man's eyes were also staring intently, as if he only needed to prepare himself to release all his pent-up effort. No. Absolutely no! Moreau would not let Froy do anything. She quickly got up, not caring if she had to leave everything here. There was no hope that they could talk things out very well. Just take a step and forget there had ever been a conversation or an attack that came close to being freely parsed. M
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Their power was not matched and even with Froy locking down the movement of her legs—Moreau could not attack from any direction. She hoped someone would come to her aid. Hoping someone would come to give the insolent bastard right now, right here, an instant lesson. Hoping things would come to a head and be taken into consideration. Froy had crossed the line of uncertain ambition. Too bold. Crazy. And yet, not sane enough to realize it immediately. His actions were not one of many ways to get better. It was truly shameful. Moreau seemed not to want to hear when the man said again. "When Uncle Abi held your hand in the office basement that day, I already felt very strange. It's even stranger that your mother and my uncle are married. What kind of coincidence, Moreau? Shouldn't you not be holding hands?" "Your uncle grabbed my hand, because he probably felt you were making me uncomfortable. You've always been like that. I'm already his stepdaughter, it's only natura
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Enough would never be enough, for Moreau had witnessed first-hand how Abihirt had lost control. She would never be able to stop the man from trying to be a deterrent. Her stepfather continued to concentrate on anger, as if it were a rodent, and it would be a painful feeling to try to break free of such a tight squeeze. Just be a little thankful that Roger arrived on time with the others. Moreau no longer knew how she would think of Barbara's reaction. It all seemed chaotic, a little unnerving when it took so much effort for Roger to separate Abihirt. Indeed... at least the man had succeeded, but there was a serious—unreadable—depiction of Abihirt's breathing; it was unavoidable, like a pendulum held too long, and next Roger had to offer Froy a favor so that all the makeup on the face—which had almost lost its mind, could be divided into several parable maps. In the end, no one can explain what Froy looks like now. Bruised, red, bloody, all such a complete mix that
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Her stepfather was still holding back. Moreau again swallowed harshly to keep the unexpected feeling of urgency, while silently staring at the man's fists tightening. A few lines of veins on Abihirt's hands surfaced. A monstrous manifestation. Too sturdy, where Froy had taken a tremendous beating there; helpless; with Roger's help to stand half-bent while holding the crushed stomach surface. Abihirt's statement undoubtedly made everyone gain new knowledge. There was a certain impact between the silence... instantly becoming the loudest, leaving only a hissing breath, while some were still struggling to stay sane. "Abi has told me everything I want to know, Froy. If you don't want your uncle to beat you up again, now tell me what's in your head that you're trying to fuck your own kin? Moreau and her mother are already our family, don't you remember that?" Like this was more fair. Moreau did not want to know in the end she did not find the slightest guilt on Froy's face other tha
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"We've made a schedule to be here for a week, Darling. It can't just be changed." Reaching the room, Barbara quickly closed the door facing the feeling where she was not willing to leave the countryside early. Waiting all these last days to be here as a surprise. There were things she had planned and didn't want to derail them just because of the chaos; about Froy's crisis of confidence, as well as some surprising new things. Well, at least a little annoyed that Moreau dared to dispute something that had become an obsolete decision. "Darling, I'm talking to you." Barbara took a harsh breath as she watched Abihirt's shoulders sink behind the bathroom door. The emergency alert at the top of her head was flashing. She wouldn't be able to resist following, though she was slightly restrained when she heard the sound of the tap water rushing in. Abihirt was clearly getting rid of the traces of dried blood on his knuckles. Barbara's eyes witnessed firsthand what he
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