Page 59 of Blades of Obsession

“Are eggs and bacon some kind of rocket science?”

“No, but if she made a mistake and made Ameli—”

“Don’t fucking call her name.”

He clears his throat. “She didn’t want to make her sick on accident.”

I sigh. “Okay. Get this mess cleaned up. Amelia shouldn’t have to stay in a place that looks like a tornado ran through it.”

“Whipped much?” He chuckles.

I grab a fistful of his shirt. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Hey, calm down. It was a joke.” When I release his shirt, he blows out a small breath and goes to pick up the beer cans. I fucking hate these guys. And I hate the tradition that every Serpent has to live here as they go through college, or I would’ve been in some fancy high rise by now.

“Rhys! Rhett! Actually, just Rhett,” I call. Rhett appears from somewhere nearby. “Be ready in an hour, we’re leaving then.”

I walk to the kitchen and the savory scent of whatever she’s cooking fills the air. “Hey, pretty girl,” I greet, leaning against the doorway.

She glances over her shoulder with a small smile. “Hey. I got hungry and didn’t want to wake you. Although I thought about it, I like your cooking better.”

I’m surprised she’s even able to walk after last night, we went three rounds. But she does look like she’s standing a bit off.

“You shouldn’t be cooking for yourself, angel. You deserve to have all of your meals cooked for you.” I move behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

“You’re telling me. If I could have a robot cook all of my meals, I would.”

I chuckle. “I can’t get you a robot, but I’ll get you the next best thing. But I have a surprise for you,” I say, just when she’s finished plating her food. “But you eat first and then I’ll show you.” I kiss the top of her head.

It takes her less than fifteen minutes to eat and before I know it, she’s following me to the surprise.

“Where are we going?” she asks, getting more and more antsy.

“You do know the concept of a surprise, right? It means you find out once it’s revealed, not on the way to it.” I chuckle.

We weave through a couple of hallways until we finally stop at the studio. I swing open the door, there’s a creak in the hinge, and I make a mental note to fix it. I want this room to be absolutely perfect for her.

Once the light turns on, it reveals what I’ve been working on for the past couple of weeks.

A fashion design studio. Her very own space where she can come and immerse herself in her designs, clear her head, and just hang out with her favorite things.

There’s dress forms and mannequins, cutting tables, and fabrics of every color and pattern you could imagine lined up on the walls. She steps inside the room with awe in her eyes, looking around. Her fingers brush over the perfectly organized measuring tools and sewing machines. Every single thing she could ever need to bring her designs to life is in this room.

There’s even a corkboard on the wall, to pin inspiration from magazine cut-outs and other printed pictures. Next to it is a dry-erase board with pink and black dry-erase markers. She passes by the sketching table, with a white fur chair, stacks of sketchbooks, and tons of pencils and colored pencils.

I may have been browsing Pinterest a little too much over these past few weeks for inspiration.

The whole room has a pink and white theme, even one of the sewing machines is pink. I put thought and meticulous care into every detail of the room for her.

“Do you like it?” I ask from the doorway, and the question seems to bring her back to reality.

“Like it?” she breathes out. “I love it!” She comes over to hug me, almost knocking me over in excitement. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” she says into my chest as I rub her back through the hug.

“This is one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. It’s not even about the price, which I’m sure was massive—it’s the thought that someone saw something I needed and even went out of their way to customize it to what I’d like. I haven’t had anyone do that for me since my mom brought me a custom sewing machine when I was twelve. And all of your choices were right, it’s everything I would have chosen myself if I could have anything I wanted in a studio. Sometimes it feels like you know me better than anyone else in my life does.”

I tip her chin up to look at me. “That’s because Icareto get to know you better than anyone else in your life does. I hang on every small little thing I can find out about you and store them in my memory as well as I know the alphabet. You’re as important to me as the alphabet is, Amelia.”

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