When the morning comes

27 | scones at midnight

The breeze was chilly. Clouds covering the stars, but giving the moon a chance to shine through just lightly. I stared up, my breathing deforming into fog as the cold had full access to do whatever it wanted. Glancing through the window, I saw how Salomé was seated onto the couch, a big sweater covering her upper body, joggers, a cup of warmth in her hands and a frown creasing her forehead as she stared at the laptop right in front of her.

I kept standing in front of her house for a long time without doing anything. I wasn't sure what I wanted. What I expected. It was as if she'd felt a presence near her house, because at that exact same moment, she glanced my direction, stood up and walked over to the door.

"Hello, can I help.. Zev?" She looked surprised, I became timid, my mind racing with excuses to come up with. "Must be cold standing there.. want to come in? I just made some hot chocolate. Or were you on your way to Daniel?"

"No, no.." Glancing at Daniels, a deep sigh left me as I thought what had happened a few hours ago. "Just going for a walk and happened to be walking here." Goode excuse.

"Oh, well.. Was the offer tempting enough?" A light chuckle escaped from her lips.

"Quite." I smiled back, took a step her direction. My eyes raked over her appearance. It was the first time I saw her in, if joggers counted, pants. She looked different, casual. Surely didn't take away her charisma. Strengthened it, even. With her hair loose and full of waves because of the way she had worn it earlier that day. A bun. Ponytail. Maybe a French braid. The only hairstyles I knew because of Aurora.

It felt intimate. It wasn't work related. But then again, had all the other times really been work related? That, I wasn't sure of.

I felt the strong desire to be with her, so without thinking much, I accepted her invitation and stepped inside her house, kicking off my shoes like I'd lived here for years. When my coat had been hung up, I followed her into the living room.

"I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Actually.." Salomé poured me a mug of hot chocolate, handing it to me. "I was hoping you could help. I'm doing some administration, but.." A sheepish expression appeared on her face. "I'm afraid my father has done it all my life long. You know, the money matters."

"Need help?"

"Gladly."

I plopped down beside her on the couch. She placed the laptop onto my lap, sat close beside me. It made me feel warm, even though I knew it was purely for her to see the screen. "Am I.."

"Allowed to see the expenses and income? Please. Without it you won't be able to help me." Salomé was so casual about it that it made me smile. I never meant to pry, and when it came to money.. sensitive topic for most British people.

"What'd you want me to do?"

"Seul Dieu sait."

"What?" I looked at her, unsure.

"God only knows." Her eyes squinted as she chuckled. "French."

"You know French?"

"My mother was French."

With my gaze on her face for a long time, it hit me later that she was being serious. "You're not English?"

"What am I, Zev?" Salomé laughed sweetly. "I was born in Wales, like I told you. My mother was French, my father English but he speaks more of the other languages than his mother tongue. I think I was raised with ten different languages, if not more. Dad sometimes spoke French at home, with my mother. Other times both of them spoke English, Spanish, you name it."