Wrong Side Of The Bed

36 | if you'll have me, i'm yours.

CHRISTIAN'S P.O.V

"OH MY GOD, IT STINGS," Neil hissed as Adrienne shot him a murderous glare. 

"This is your fault," Adrienne hissed at him, and on some days, I found her scarier than Walter. Today was one of those days. "Which eighteen-year-old boy rampages around like a kid and has no sense of balance?"

"I am not eighteen," Neil said in between heaving breaths as Adrienne mercilessly poured rubbing alcohol on the wound on his knee. "I am seventeen! I'll be eighteen next month, Adrienne."

"Well, this is a fairly eventful trip," Walter commented from the window seat, letting out a laugh. That laugh — a metaphor no man could ever find the words for. That laugh would be my catastrophe. "We have already had two accidents. Neil bleeding out on the concrete, and Este being late and almost being run over in the process of hastily crossing the street. I can't wait to see what more is scheduled for the day."
 
"I am not babysitting anyone, no matter if you break teeth and bones," Lucas piped in from the driver's seat, and I watched as he expertly maneuvered the way. "I am only here to enjoy." We were in Lucas' car - a six-seater Mercedes Benz V-class? Or something like that. I hadn't paid attention — I only knew the brand because out of all the six-seater cars in Lucas' garage, Walter had patted the hood of this car and had called it pretty. So naturally, we all chose the pretty car.

We were on our way to one of Walter's family's farmhouses that had no house barns attached but only served the purpose of acting as getaway homes when one needed a break from the city. Walter's parents were gracious enough to allow us to barge in their vacation house? guest house? whatever it was — for the whole weekend, and they had even packed us some snacks! Walter's Dad had looked at me for a minute too long and I had wanted to melt into the ground, but thankfully things hadn't come to that because Lucas had entered the driveway with his car within minutes. On the four-hour-long car ride here, while everyone had feasted on Walter's chef-made, massive lunch — Walter had feasted on the food I had helped mum prepare. Goddamnit. The little things about her made butterflies go crazy in my stomach.

"Turn right," Walter said and I watched quietly as Lucas swerved right and eased the car onto the narrowing right road. But at the end of it — we all saw the building. A sprawling building made of stone that looked like it was straight out of the sixteenth century — it had vines and greenery creeping all around it. The entrance door was huge, and when Walter fished out her phone and typed something — the gates eased open, giving way into the enormous driveway and to the house, that looked pretty modern once you neared it. And there was a fountain in the middle of the driveway — a bloody fountain. We all gaped at the mansion and then looked at Walter, who shrugged. 

"Welcome to the getaway house," She said, simply. 

"That's… not a farmhouse," I said.  

"No," Walter laughed. "It's not a farmhouse. But it's definitely something. And it has a humongous garden in the back — and oh, we can also play football here. There are loads of empty spaces!"

"Why can't you guys call it soccer like normal people?" Adrienne inquired.

"It's football," Walter and I said in unison.

"It's both," Lucas chimed in, the car rolling to a stop. "Also, where's the garage?"

"Right there," Walter pointed at a huge, wide door. "Rufus will be opening the gates in a minute. He is the only one present here today — all the staff usually get holidays on Saturdays and Sundays because we don't visit this house very often. Like once, or twice a year. Not more than that."

"Once again, I'm astonished by how loaded you are," Estelle said.

"I'm not rich, my parents are," Walter said, shrugging. "If I was rich, I wouldn't buy as many houses as Baba does. I'll buy entire studios after studios where I can showcase my work."