After some experimenting, Rose picks a silk shirt, the same colour as the handful of dried apricots I’d eaten with my cereal this morning, and it glimmers when I move and the streaming light from outside hits it. She adds a tight leather skirt which sticks to my thick thighs when I walk and a pair of heels. I’ve never walked in high heels before and I try to convince Rose it isn’t a good idea as I stumble across the bedroom. I have enough trouble staying out of danger without adding six wobbly inches to it. But Rose is persistent that these black stilettos are the perfect touch to my transformation.
“You look fantastic,” she says, looking proud of her creation.
“I look like a hooker,” I say, twirling around and watching the light bounce off the glass chandelier on to my shiny blouse.
When I trundle down the stairs with my heavy case, Gabe is pacing back and forth in the hallway. “Come on,” he grabs my bag from my hand and packs it into his car which is parked in the driveway. Rose is following behind me and is telling him off for being so rude to me. He shrugs and I can’t help but notice how breathtaking he looks as he leans against the smooth, polished surface of his car. It’s a ostentatious black sports car and I presume it is a gift from Maurice. Something Gabe resented. But as dazzling as the car is, it is the boy who steals the show.
Today he is wearing his black hair slicked back, like a glamorous movie star from the nineteen-fifties, so I can see the clean lines of his jaw, nose and cheekbones. He has his leather jacket on again even though the weather hasn’t been this pleasant for months. He wears it over lightweight charcoal shirt and black jeans. As usual everything about his body language is building a stony barrier between us.
After three days in a house with Rose and Gabe I am no further in discovering what lies beneath Gabe’s bad boy image. While Rose has bloomed and opened up like her namesake in Spring. She talked fondly of the places she has visited and how the opportunities working for a vampire like Maurice has brought her. I have learned about her older brother who was is disabled and needs full time care and since her parents are both dead it is Rose’s job to care for him and it is only through her job with Maurice that she can afford the best care in the country. The way she spoke tenderly of her brother makes me think of dad who gave up his life to put me first. But Gabe. Gabe is a mystery. As rigid and unbreakable as his clenched fists.
Rose is still lecturing him when my mind breaks from my daydream and into reality. “And remember,” she fiddles with the collar of his shirt and I am envious of how good they look together. “Be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” he grins. Their faces are at such close proximity now that I could have sworn they were going to kiss. A sight that would be sure to make me squirm.
But Rose just laughs, pats his chest gently and turns to me. She gives me a tight hug and we exchange goodbyes. “I’ll see you in Paris later one today,” she says and there are tears in her voice. She laughs, “Look at me, getting emotional and I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“You are truly pathetic, Rosie,” Gabe says, opening my door and ushering me into the passenger seat without actually touching me. I’ve noticed Gabe has an aversion to touching me. No matter how close he gets to me, he is careful never to bump into me or graze hands. Whenever we do we catch eyes and it feels unnatural.
Gabe kisses Rose on the cheek. Showing me a glimpse of the real gentleman that I am waiting to come out around me. The car starts and we are waving goodbye to Rose who looks sad but
“You look fantastic,” she says, looking proud of her creation.
“I look like a hooker,” I say, twirling around and watching the light bounce off the glass chandelier on to my shiny blouse.
When I trundle down the stairs with my heavy case, Gabe is pacing back and forth in the hallway. “Come on,” he grabs my bag from my hand and packs it into his car which is parked in the driveway. Rose is following behind me and is telling him off for being so rude to me. He shrugs and I can’t help but notice how breathtaking he looks as he leans against the smooth, polished surface of his car. It’s a ostentatious black sports car and I presume it is a gift from Maurice. Something Gabe resented. But as dazzling as the car is, it is the boy who steals the show.
Today he is wearing his black hair slicked back, like a glamorous movie star from the nineteen-fifties, so I can see the clean lines of his jaw, nose and cheekbones. He has his leather jacket on again even though the weather hasn’t been this pleasant for months. He wears it over lightweight charcoal shirt and black jeans. As usual everything about his body language is building a stony barrier between us.
After three days in a house with Rose and Gabe I am no further in discovering what lies beneath Gabe’s bad boy image. While Rose has bloomed and opened up like her namesake in Spring. She talked fondly of the places she has visited and how the opportunities working for a vampire like Maurice has brought her. I have learned about her older brother who was is disabled and needs full time care and since her parents are both dead it is Rose’s job to care for him and it is only through her job with Maurice that she can afford the best care in the country. The way she spoke tenderly of her brother makes me think of dad who gave up his life to put me first. But Gabe. Gabe is a mystery. As rigid and unbreakable as his clenched fists.
Rose is still lecturing him when my mind breaks from my daydream and into reality. “And remember,” she fiddles with the collar of his shirt and I am envious of how good they look together. “Be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” he grins. Their faces are at such close proximity now that I could have sworn they were going to kiss. A sight that would be sure to make me squirm.
But Rose just laughs, pats his chest gently and turns to me. She gives me a tight hug and we exchange goodbyes. “I’ll see you in Paris later one today,” she says and there are tears in her voice. She laughs, “Look at me, getting emotional and I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“You are truly pathetic, Rosie,” Gabe says, opening my door and ushering me into the passenger seat without actually touching me. I’ve noticed Gabe has an aversion to touching me. No matter how close he gets to me, he is careful never to bump into me or graze hands. Whenever we do we catch eyes and it feels unnatural.
Gabe kisses Rose on the cheek. Showing me a glimpse of the real gentleman that I am waiting to come out around me. The car starts and we are waving goodbye to Rose who looks sad but
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