The light of tendrils penetrating through the glass window, which Moreau had forgotten to cover last night, slowly made her frown. She immediately jerked awake, then looked back just to confirm something .... Her stepfather was on her back and shirtless. For a moment Moreau was transfixed by Abihirt's sleeping face. How calm, almost perfect. The man's breathing was regular, seemingly still too deep for Moreau to take any wrong action. She only intended to get up, wanting to pick up the cloth that was scattered carelessly. However, she stopped when her bright blue irises stared at the flat object the man had placed on the nightstand. So close. Moreau didn't know whether she should act recklessly or let the sudden curiosity go to waste. It seemed that the more she held back, the more it would make things a restless blob. Moreau's
"What are you doing, Moreau?" It was as if the man had just realized something... immediately jolted awake by the scattered shock there. Moreau swallowed harshly to face Abihirt's unreadable dark look. The man rubbed his face roughly, then passed over Moreau's body to simply grab the cell phone on the nightstand. Not knowing if she had left a trace, but Moreau noticed how Abihirt's lips thinned to then glare at her for a moment, as if the man had discovered something and decided not to say it. Just massaging the sturdy-looking bridge of his nose... for a moment, then one of the man's arms reached out to simply land the back of a hand on her forehead, making Moreau have to hold her breath. "Feeling better already?" A question that she could not understand whether it was a concern from A
Moreau's bright blue irises did not break eye contact for a moment, even though Juan was looking at her as if the man wanted to drink in some statement that had to be seriously elaborated. It was so odd to find Juan staring straight there, with such a skeptical look on his face. Much to Moreau's consternation, she had repeatedly tapped her fingers on her own lap and also arranged the strands of hair forward so that Juan would not find a reddish mark in the hollow of her neck. The man would grow suspicious. Moreau didn't want that to happen. "Can you stop looking at me like that, Juan? I'm uncomfortable." She spoke, but while adjusting the tapping of her hand into a faint squeeze on the hem of her thick furry coat there. "Why is that? You owe me many stories, Amiga. Now tell me, where did Mr. Lincoln sleep last night? He didn't leave the room after suddenly standing at the door of the house when I came home from the tavern, and even took over the burger I was supposed to bri
"I even slept with him before my mother's wedding day." "How so?" It seemed Juan was too surprised to ask the question almost with a choked throat. Good thing the man wasn't drinking. "We were at the same club, then that's what happened." Moreau would love to turn back time and wish she had never gotten drunk that day. Juan might have accumulated a bad perspective. She wouldn't blame him if that was how it should be and always had been. "Why don't you just tell your mom about this?" After a moment's pause, the man finally added a question, or perhaps an opinion that would be difficult to pinpoint. Moreau smiled bitterly at the thought. "Believe me, if my mother knew about this, I would be the one to blame. She loves Abi so much. It's impossible for her to understand my situation, especially since we don't really get along. Isn't it true that in situations like this, the woman is always to blame? Men rarely take social risks." Then, it was Juan's turn to exhale harshly.
There was no conversation even after the return trip. Moreau had no idea what she might be thinking. It was so odd and nervous to face Abihirt walking down the steps after the man had carried a bag with some clothes into her room. The man didn't even say a word, anything, when offering to help. Just a silent, puzzling gesture, then... started to disappear. Moreau exhaled a rough breath, immediately decided to close the door, then walked tentatively towards the bed. She flopped down on her back with her attention focused straight ahead. Her plan to avoid her stepfather had failed. Moreau hadn't even found an answer yet... where did Abihirt know Juan's residence, and why would the man guess so precisely? Maybe there's something behind it .... Barbara? Instantly the top of Moreau's head seemed to be show
"I'm here because I have something to talk about, Abi. Not this." Moreau swallowed harshly after their lip-lock broke for once. She ventured to give her stepfather's firm chest a push. Abihirt didn't say anything further right away, like it took a moment, and then the tall body immediately towered over her. The rush of anticipation in Moreau's mind tried hard to warn her. She clenched her fingers tightly when Aibihrt's hand burrowed into her hair, as if she was considering the moment while... at first the man gave a slow squeeze, which eventually became a rough grip. "Talk about it later when you're done. Take off my pants." Moreau stared in surprise. She wanted to protest something she never thought would be implied quite so strongly here. So close. In the presence of something that stood out underneath Abihirt's cloth pants. "Ab
She slowly moved her face restlessly when Abihirt similarly wanted to nuzzle into the hollow of her neck. "Why do you want to know? Didn't you see for yourself that day?" "Just making sure. I did not see it." Moreau's anxiety grew worse as she was bombarded over and over again, while her stepfather's deep, raspy voice seemed to be a powerful blob to explode the scattered pieces. Everything about the man was too perfect to categorize, leaving the worst effects that Moreau could barely control. She began to tremble, perhaps having left marks on some parts of Abihirt's body as her grip went, then deliberately dug her fingernails deep just to get a grip. With a serious intake of breath, Moreau's bright blue irises locked onto Abihirt's gray eyes. Only briefly was the man able to make e
The ringing of the cell phone in the morning was the only thing that made Moreau's forehead furrow. She had to struggle to open her eyes despite feeling very reluctant. With one hand outstretched towards the table, she tried to finger the flat object. Looked at it briefly, but in an instant... was immediately surprised to find her mother's name written on it. This was not unusual. Perhaps there was something to be conveyed that Moreau's mind was overwhelmed with a strong urge not to miss anything, or even to keep her mother waiting. "Yes, Mom?" [Did you just wake up?] Moreau rubbed her rough face after first hearing Barbara's voice from the other side. The woman would have immediately guessed and was