Life for Isabelle Green is perfect. Except for whatever it is that lurks in the dark when the lights go out.
~~~
Note: This is NOT a paranormal story. No jump-scares, no purple veiny hands and no skeletal figures. Just a lil thrill and romance~
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Tired already, sweetheart?" Zico mocks, flaunting the gigantic dumbbell in his hand. "Surely, you can do better than me?" The idiot flexes his large bicep and then glances at mine to prove his point.
I groan and set down the dumbbell, stretching my aching arms. "I will get you for this, LooMan."
"Try lifting half as much weight as I do first, sweetheart," comes his smug reply as he continues his work out. I smile a little when I see angry veins beginning to pop out across his arm, but being the stubborn moron he is, he refuses to give up.
"It's okay, you know. I won't tell anyone if you put it down now," I smirk.
"I can still go on," he protests, the slight trembling of his arm suggesting otherwise.
"Zico, stop! You're going to break your arm!" I laugh.
"Oh, he'll be fine," Maria waves off my concerns as she sneaks a donut into my unsuspecting hand. "Let's leave the idiot be, yes? Now, why don't we chat a little over tea?"
"Where's my donut?" Zico cries.
"Would you like mine?" I mock, waving the donut at him, but making sure to keep it out of his reach.
"Mom! Your beloved son is being harassed right in front of you and you-"
"Oh, right!" Maria gasps. "I forgot to pack Carlos lunch!" She turns to Zico, a sweet smile on her face. "Zico, would you mind delivering it to him for me?"
"You have got to be kidding me!" Zico whines as Maria winks, making me giggle. It is no mystery where Zico gets his charm from. His mother is the most graceful, yet the most ridiculously childish person I have ever met. It is almost absurd how her tall, delicate frame flitted about the house this morning, grinning excitedly as she showed me her home and, of course, her beloved garden.
Her kindness continues to surprise me. Not only did she let a complete stranger into her home, she also makes a diligent effort to make sure I am always comfortable. When we sat down to talk yesterday, she was careful not to ask sensitive questions, something that surprised me because I have seldom seen people hold back their curiosity, no matter how uncomfortable their questions might be.
"Zico tells me you like to read?" I heard her ask as she served dinner. My face flamed. Zico talked about me?What else did he tell her? When I replied in the affirmative, she immediately proposed that we should go to the book store that her friend owned together sometime. Touched by her thoughtfulness, I readily agreed.
Maria and I bonded over dinner (much to Zico's horror) and by bedtime, we were already chatting away like old friends. As fun as it was to gang up on Zico with his mother, I was warmed by Maria's concern and her insistence on taking care of me. "I always wanted a daughter to spoil, darling, and I finally have one," she said last night, as she combed my hair. It was such a strange feeling, to have someone care for me the way mom once did. Her gentle caresses felt so foreign, yet so calming, I struggled to not fall asleep to her angelic voice. The strangest thing, however, was how her entire demeanour changed this morning. I was surprised when I found her frowning as I entered the kitchen to help with breakfast. Before I could overthink, however, she pulled me into a firm embrace, tucking my head under her chin. "You are not a bother, darling, and I had better not hear you say anything of the kind again," she warned me. A little annoyed with Zico for selling me out, but glad to receive the confirmation that I am, indeed, not a bother, I let the tears I had held back flow freely and sobbed as I held on to her.
