𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐕𝐈 : 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭

Both Mr. Arlert and Mr. Kirstein catapulted themselves into their work following Hitch's party. Meals were brought to their cabins, moments wandering the grounds and town during the day decreased drastically, and interactions with you became minimal.

You silently appreciated the change when it came to Mr. Kirstein, as his attitude had only grown more intolerable. Each morning, when you brought his breakfast, he would accept the tray but slam the door in your face immediately after. Even though you saw him no more than twice a day, the frequency of his insults toward you somehow doubled. Luckily, he primarily used English to call you lazy, whiny, and obnoxious, so at least there was no need for translations.

June rounded to a close, and July brought a spike in temperature in its first week. Steam rose from the lake each morning while the birds hunted for worms before the sun could zap their willpower. Heatwaves vibrated over the dried-out fields surrounding the house by midday. All living creatures smuggled themselves into any surviving shade until darkness cast heavy shadows over the earth.

At night, life returned to the world in the form of crickets and frogs chirping merrily despite the rest of the ecosystem's exhaustion. Mr. Arlert and Mr. Kirstein would use the cover of night to slink off into town and return home blazingly drunk. While they enjoyed the nightlife, you evaporated each evening into your mattress–the heat sucking you of all your energy. Even with every window opened to draw in any cool air that still blew, you stuck to your clothes and sheets. Sweat dripped from your brow and upper lip as you forced your eyes closed and prayed for sleep to carry you toward Salvation.

There was nothing worse than sleeping in hot weather. At least, in the cold, you could add layers to better adjust to the chill. But, in the heat, you could not remove your own skin to lower the temperature. Once you discarded your nightgown and slept naked atop your blankets, there was little else to be done about the warmth. You were damned to burn in Hell.

The bags under your eyes appeared darker every morning until you appeared well-battered by sleeplessness. By the ninth day of the heatwave, you were a conscious cadaver that lumbered from place to place with leaden footsteps.

"It's laundry day," Niccolo sleepily reminded as he handed you the breakfast tray to take down to the cabins. "Best to do it now before the sun rises too high."

"I don't have the energy. I haven't slept more than a few hours each night."

"You either do it today or tomorrow, but keep in mind that there is at least a breeze today. I can't promise it'll be here tomorrow."

"Can you go to town and see if they have any ice left then? I'll need something cold."

"I can, but I doubt anyone will give some away willingly. Not in this heat."

Groaning, you lifted the tray and shoved open the back door while Niccolo went around, shutting each window in the main house. The morning sun had already scorched the dew from the grass, and the lake's waterline had dropped a few inches since last month. You stood before the dock for a long time as you thought about how refreshing a swim might be. Submerging yourself in the cool water seemed like a dream after enduring so many sleepless nights.

Needing to carry on with your day, you pulled yourself from the waterline and gently tapped Mr. Arlert's door with your shoe. When the door opened, the blonde looked annoyingly well-rested as he took his food to the table. He must be one of the lucky few who actually enjoyed the heat. Steaming envy pulsed through your blood thickly the longer you stared at his chipper expression.

"How are you sleeping?" he asked. "You look... tired."

"I'm aware. I struggle with the heat."

"Jean has been struggling, as well," the blonde said with a sympathetic smile. "Be careful when you go to him. He almost bit my head off last night for chewing too loud."