Mr. Clinton approached us, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is there a party going on?" He raised one eyebrow, his voice laced with amusement. Miss Ross dropped her mug in the sink after gulping down the whole cup of tea in one go. "Yeah, tea party. Too bad you came late." She rolled her eyes, brushing past him as she gently slapped his shoulder. The moment she walked out of the kitchen, my eyes locked on him, a sly smile spreading on my lips. "Would you like some tea?" I purred softly, biting my lips, my shoulders raising seductively. "Or perhaps you would like to continue with what we were doing earlier before...your mother interrupted." His eyes never left mine as his expression remained unreadable, but it did well to conceal the effect I had on him. His gaze was drawn to my face, precisely my lips, as I spoke. And for a moment, I felt his desire burning in his gaze, but it disappeared the next second he looked away. "I don't want my mother to..."
A wide grin spread across my face as I heard him; my eyes sparkled with giddy excitement. Even though he hadn't admitted to his feelings, he still gave me a chance to make do it, and I was ready to go all out—not relenting. With one stride, I closed the small distance between us; my fingers traced the curve of his collar, and I gripped him possessively and drew him closer. He gave in to my abrupt pull, his eyes fixed on my face as his expression contained a mix of amusement and irritation. He let out a disgruntled sigh, his lips pressed into a thin line as our faces were mere inches apart. My grin grew wider as my face desperately hovered over his, our lips almost touching. All I wanted to do was kiss those rosy lips over and over again, just as I had always imagined in my wet dreams, and finally, it had become a reality. I heaved a soft, satisfied sigh, ready to crash my lips onto his, but without warning, he gently gripped a fistful of my hair, tilting his head away from my f
Our eyes snapped towards the living room as we instantly turned alert. "What was that?" I asked, immediately dropping the knife on the counter and turning to him. He frowned, concern etching his face. "Sounds like something broke." He replied and strode towards the living room, his long strides eating up the distance. I followed closely behind, darting my eyes across the whole place. There was no sight of Miss Ross anywhere, so who would have broken something? "Miss Ross..." I hollered, and my voice echoed, shattering the silence. As we entered the living room, I gasped at the sight before us. The vase that had sat on the coffee table lay shattered on the floor, its fragments scattered everywhere. "Who could have...?" I trailed off, my eyes scanning the room. Then I noticed that even the table linen was rumpled, the edges almost falling off the table. "How did this fall on its own?" I mused, returning my gaze to the shattered fragments beneath me. Without a word, Mr.
I returned to the kitchen, my finger still throbbing slightly, but my mood remained buoyant. A small cut couldn't ruin my blissful morning, especially when things had fallen into place for me. Mr. Clinton's subtle acceptance of our relationship and teasing remarks had really lightened my day, and also Erin's disappearance felt as if the heavens were on my side today. I felt truly grateful for this peaceful morning, free from the tension and drama that had once plagued me. As I continued cooking, my eyes strayed to the peanut jar, now sitting at the far edge of the counter. I halted, my forehead creasing in thought. Wasn't that jar an arm's length away earlier? Or did I shift it over there a while ago? No, I was sure I didn't. I pursed my lips, staring at the peanut jar, trying to remember, but I had no memory of taking it to that position. "Whatever," I mumbled, averting my eyes and returning my gaze back to the almost ready meal before me. The sizzling vegetables and simme
ERIN'S POV FLASHBACK As I strode out of the living room, I gazed at the bunch of keys in my hand, a symbol of Mr. Clinton's kindness in offering me a place to stay. Yet, despite his generosity, I couldn't shake off the suffocating feeling of defeat. It was an all-too-familiar sensation, one that had haunted me since childhood. Defeat was annoying, painful, and heart-wrenching, tearing apart every shred of hope and shattering the fragile happiness my mother had worked tirelessly to provide. My mother was my everything, the reason I toiled day and night, juggling multiple jobs to support our struggling household. It all began when I was thirteen, naive and innocent, believing my parents' marriage was built on love. But that illusion was shattered when my father abandoned us for a woman half his age. He brought the bitch into our household, treating her like some goddess while turning my mother and me into punching bags. Not a day passed when he wouldn't leave an imprint on our fa
SARAH'S POVPanic set in as I watched Miss Ross struggling to breathe. Her pulse was faint, her face turning pale as her eyelids slowly drooped, her body surrendering to darkness. Mr. Clinton's expression transformed from calm to frantic, refusing to let the worst happen.He had already started CPR when the paramedic arrived. Her chest felt fragile beneath his hands, and he silently prayed it wasn't too late."What happened?" one of the paramedics asked, rushing toward us."Peanut allergy," I replied, my voice shaking as my eyes welled up. "S..she ingested peanuts."The paramedic quickly took over CPR, and they rushed her to the vehicle, sirens blaring as we drove away.****At the hospital, the ER team swung into action. Doctors and nurses swarmed around her, shouting orders and administering medication."Anaphylaxis," a doctor called out. "Get her on oxygen, stat!"I stood aside, drowning in the tension as urgent murmurs and frantic noises enveloped me. This was my fault. I should h
After hours of questioning, the police finally left, leaving me drowning in the silence of the duplex. The place felt empty, cold, and devoid of any liveliness that had once ensued during dusk; the time when we gathered around the dining room for dinner. Our interactions were warm and rich in conversation, a stark contrast to the silence that now dominated the whole place.I sauntered past the dining room; the emptiness seemed to expand, swallowing me whole. I wandered around the living room, tracing the outline of the vacant couch.I sighed, clutching my phone in my hand. I would often glance at the time and watch how the hours ticked by with no sign of Mr. Clinton."After telling him to come back early, yet he's still out there..." I mumbled, averting my eyes from the screen. I let out a sigh in frustration and made my way to the veranda, a cool, serene place for relaxation—Mr. Clinton's second favorite spot, and it was soon turning into mine as well.Looking at the glamorous view o
I rushed out of my room, eager to shake off the lingering frustration from last night's conversation with Mr. Clinton. The constant denial of his feelings was a relentless gnawing ache trapping me in a vicious cycle of confusion and longing. Every glance, every gesture, every whispered word from him left me spinning my own wheels, desperately making me seek a way to make him admit he feels something for me. Even if it was to stir a tiny feeling within him, one that he can't quite ignore or back away from. As I turned the corner, I collided with a familiar figure— the one who had the power to shatter my heart and soothe my soul. "Easy there, where are you rushing off to?" Mr. Clinton said, steadying me by the shoulders. I apologized, avoiding his gaze. His disappointing words from last night were still fresh in my mind. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," I said flatly, attempting to walk past him, but he quickly grabbed my wrist, sending a twinge of electricity jolting th