Page 46 of Nocturne

No matter the number of times I tell her not to pull all-nighters in her bakery, she wouldn’t listen. Talking to a wall might fetch better results than telling her to stop spoiling her health while creating new recipes.

“She’s got your stubbornness Ma,”

I take another long sip from the bottle, the burn searing my throat. I rarely drink, avoiding alcohol except at this time of year. The familiar buzz begins to creep in, chasing away the lingering numbness.

Leaning back on the bench, I tilt my head until all I can see is the endless stretch of angry grey clouds.

The rumble grows louder now, accompanied by sporadic flashes of lightning. The storm clouds surge forward, devouring the white patches around them, deepening into an ominous shade with every passing second.

Their colour reminds me of a certain someone's eyes—stormy and unyielding. The rumble mirrors his gruff voice, resonating deeply as those intense, grey depths bore into me, stirring something I’m not accustomed to.

They are always filled with nothingness, but how come they raged in fury when he saw me hurt? Why did he look angry? Why did his emotionless baritone take an octave of maddening rage when Eero tried to touch me? And what right did he have to touch, hold, and carry me as if it were his god-given right?

You’re spiralling.

I am.

His actions contradict his words. He tells me to stay away, but he won’t stay away himself. Ever since his cryptic words at the hospital, it’s taken all my energy to push thoughts of him out of my mind. With everything else on my plate, the last thing I need is the added complexity of a crime lord invading my thoughts.

The underside of my eyes tingle, and I can feel my cheeks warm as I recall how his warm tongue licked my tears. What is it with him and licking my tears? That act should be disturbing, creepy and abhorrent, at the least. Why in the heavens do I find it…nice?

I groan and finish the remaining drink in one go. I don’t want to be thinking about him. The man scares me endlessly.

He also makes you horny.

I need to shut that hormonal part of myself which peeks out wherever he is concerned. Even his mere thoughts are enough to send away the coherence I usually work with.

The quick consumption of alcohol loosens my limbs. The dull ache I felt in my ankle is no more, and despite myself, I let out a chuckle for no reason.

“Good god, I’m wasted,” I slur out loud.

“Oops,” I bring my fingers over my mouth when I hiccup loudly.

Even my drunk self knows that I’m in no state to drive or even hail for a cab. I need to sit here for a while until I’m at least part sober.

Alcohol loosens my tongue, bringing out the woman who loves spouting random, unnecessary facts. No one likes a know-it-all, which is why I keep her shackled.

I pat my jeans, searching for my phone, only to remember I left it on the kitchen counter after my call with Div.

“Son of a gun,” I hiss.

My grip on the empty brandy bottle loosens, and it tumbles down.

“Darn it!”

The darn thing slips my fingers as it tumbles down the slope of the pier. I’d hate for it to break and hurt someone. Despite my lack of not being able to walk straight, I try to chase it.

“Catch it!” I call out when I see a pair of shiny shoes in my vision.

The right shoe lifts slightly to trap the bottle under the feet. I stand straight with a thankful smile.

“Thank…ohh. Hello,”

Thirteen

Ara

It is as if my mere thoughts have conjured him.

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