"You wait here. I'll see Abi for a moment."
That was it. Moreau wasn't sure she had the right to just say one particular part. Her mother had a point when the woman began to walk away. Had been so close—now hugging the serious man from behind. Perhaps Abihirt's first-time reaction was surprise. Perhaps not. The man had instant anticipation and a tendency to give good reflexes. Most fair; it was necessary to surmise that her stepfather wasn't interested, or in fact, already was... so she caught Barbara as if to say something, then tendrils appeared as the woman dropped a light kiss on Abihirt's face. A sight that instinctively made Moreau look for another angle to watch. She didn't know why she didn't want to witness the couple's togetherness there. It was too odd to imagine her like a thorny rose; nurtured by her mother—nourished by clear water, then turned into a piercing one. Or should Moreau admit one thing she did last night, about her mistaken assumption about"Are you sure you can take care of everything yourself, Darling? Gloriya and I might be gone for a while. We'll shop for a few things that are needed. Gifts for my coworkers won't be overlooked either. Don't forget to heat up your potato soup if you want to eat, okay?" It was already quite noon, Barbara quickly grabbed the bag placed on the edge of the bed while paying attention to every detail of her husband's activities. Not once did Abihirt leave the monitor's attention. She would try to understand how the man was too busy, though for a moment the expression on that handsome face seemed to frown oddly at the word 'gift'. Trying not to be affected. Barbara immediately curved a faint smile, then approached the man who did not respond to her words. She placed a light peck on a jaw that felt rough. Slightly rubbing it as Abihirt glanced over briefly. "Don't overexert yourself when you're sick. Remember to rest. There is Gabriel who will help you with your work. You
"Auntie, aren't you afraid to let Uncle Abi and Moreau stay here? At least take one of them with us to El Rastro." "Don't be silly, Froy. You know your uncle isn't feeling well. He slept on the living room sofa last night. Probably cold, since I didn't give him a blanket. And Moreau... you've done something unpleasant to her, she's a little afraid of you. Besides, Roger is here. It's not just the two of them." Barbara's voice was already half annoyed. How she tried hard not to explode in anger at some of Froy's silliness. His prejudice almost made her think of things she shouldn't, but this time she would no longer fall into unpleasant business. Abihirt had already made it clear that the man did not look for beauty in people. They were married, that was something to keep in mind. "But, Auntie—" However, it seemed Froy was still trying to interrupt. A near-refutation was immediately stuck in the back of his throat when Gloriya spoke up. "What did I tell
Moreau blinked rapidly after reconsidering the narrative lodged there. A clue didn't exactly sound odd, but she found it hard to agree. Suddenly believing that such a concept sounded impossible. It was hard to imagine inconveniencing the doctor. Perhaps it shouldn't be done. There was a master bathroom adjacent to the kitchen. It was only a few steps away. Finish everything there. It was not a complicated action. Moreau looked down for a moment to take in her appearance. A towel .... Guessing it wasn't bad enough to just whisk her out, or should she have craved the prospect of importance, where there were no similar problems with water flow in the other bathrooms. Yes, hopefully. Slowly, while making sure the ends of the towel were securely fastened, Moreau's steps began to move towards the main door handle. Staring for a few moments and not immediately pressing, let alone opening it too wide. Peeking. That was the first thing she did, then held her
"Just curious. I want to take a shower, but the water in my bathroom isn't coming out. You might know something?" Again. Moreau spoke so carefully. In the end Roger made a gesture of simple understanding. The man smiled briefly. At least until it was his turn to run the pawn. "If you want to go to the main bathroom, the water doesn't work there either. I was staying in Abi's room. Your father probably won't mind if you borrow his bathroom for a while. Isn't that right, Abi?"This decision would probably leave an odd impression. Moreau didn't know whether she would actually hitchhike or abort. But her appearance and all her readiness to bathe were already craving the touch of water. It should not be a problem. Just need to wait for her stepfather's approval, then Moreau would sneak into the next room. She took a few breaths. Making sure she was determined enough to simply face Abihirt. Facing a man who still had not given the slightest response. It would not be
It felt quite nice after the touch of water to have dry patches on her body. Moreau made sure one last time that she did not leave any particular traces that Barbara would find. Didn't want her to know about things and hoped that Abihirt didn't say anything about the need for a bath, especially not if Roger didn't say anything either. Fortunately, there was nothing else left. Moreau quickly took a step away before Barbara returned from the flea market or imagined what she had been dreading. Her long hair was no longer pulled into a high ponytail at the top of her head. Letting it flow freely at the back seemed better. It only took a few steps to reach the center of the room. However, she seemed to learn an irony as she stared at the same spot where she was before. At the two pillows there. A little tight for some reason. Moreau did not expect to be surrounded by such undesirable things. She had no right to nurture an unexpected feeling, even if it was just a brief jealo
It took serious courage to describe such a thing. Let Abihirt think something obscure between them. The man would think that she had deliberately appeared before Roger in a towel. Moreau did not care. Just hoped that there would not be more silence taking over while her stepfather's gray eyes seemed to be preparing a special part as a complete dish. "What should I do with you?" The man's deep, hoarse voice tended to mumble, as if it was more important to speak to oneself, interpreting freely; then at a loss to come to a conclusion. Moreau understood... just as Abihirt did not want Froy to touch her. The man didn't want the same thing involving Roger either. A little possessive. Restricting. Unpleasant. There were rules about hooking up, but they were by no means formally bound. "I'll go back to my room if you don't mind." Moreau ended the sentence like that while feeling the tightness in her throat. Abihirt did not say anything. Hardly even a hint when the ma
Moreau's statement hung on the edge of her throat. She held her breath when she detected her stepfather leaning over with both hands pressed against the surface of the bed. Even the man's arms felt so close. There were lines of solid, manly sinew rising to the surface. Moreau swallowed roughly, then made sure her irises were fixed on Abihirt's handsome face. The man didn't look like he was going to say anything, though in the end she always knew; Abihirt was very contradictory in certain situations. "I'll leave after making sure you get punished, for disobeying my orders. Twice." There was an emphasis at the end of that deep, husky voice. In extremes it left a burning feeling of tension. Moreau knew she might not get away with things like this. There was no new ground to dig another grave. Already trapped. There was no shortcut. "You're so possessive of me. Why not my mother?" Better to ask questions. Let Abihirt sort it out, though it seemed the man w
This time Moreau bit her lower lip unconsciously. Wanting Abihirt to at least stop. However, it seemed like she made a mistake; making him notice what she had just done so, the man's fingertips brushed against the bitten part. "What were you doing earlier?" Abihirt's question sounded odd. This wasn't even a trial and it felt really tense. Moreau shook her head. Instinctively putting a hand on the man's wrist; hoping she could hold back when her stepfather was about to do something. As it turned out, it was quite hard to imagine she would suddenly realize one thing. Deliberately dropping the touch that was creeping up the back of Abihirt's hand. At least taking the man's fingers to be lifted a fraction of an inch away, a sort of serious insistence, as if it was a pending need that needed to be resolved immediately. Moreau swallowed harshly noticing the form of legality that was fully established between her mother and stepfather. The wedding ring was a pure sy