'𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙? 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕.'
|18+| |unedited| ❝We're not meant to do this. It doesn't feel right.❞ My voice was ragged and I completely forgot how to breathe when her hands trailed...
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Munching and moaning about how good the food was, I didn't notice the small pats of footsteps on the floor until someone tugs my shirt and that's when I saw it.
Wide honey brown eyes stare into my grey ones and my heart skipped a bit. The brown bouncy curls which frames her face complements her small button nose in a little heart shaped face. I notice how struck I was by how exquisitely beautiful the young girl is.
"Hi." She said, her voice soft and barely a whisper but I could still make it out. I haven't been around a lot of kids but it doesn't take rocket science to know that she's shy.
"Hi." I force some cheer into my voice and I curse. Even I can hear that it was forced. "How are you?"
"Can you please give me some muffins? Because if my mum finds me here she's going to bring out the big guns and one of my legs would go missing." She remarks, pulling out the little chair across the room over to me, then she hopped on it.
"What the- was that what your mum said to you?" I frown, passing her the last muffin on my plate and ignoring that she didn't answer my question.
"No. I see everything. The guns everyone here have strapped to their waist, the tiny balls that has cute little pins on it and the occasional fights some people get into." She explains, licking the frosting off the muffin.
Oh my God. Isn't that too much of a thing a young girl should know?
"What's your name?" I ask, clearing my throat and smiling at how fast she ate the muffin.
"Ophelia."
Ophelia. Ophelia. Ophelia. That name, sounds so familiar. Then it clicks. The maid that took care of Vera and the other children's name was Ophelia.
I choke trying to hold back tears, grabbing the little girl to my chest and releasing her as a question popped in my head.. "What about your dad?"
"Tch. Mama doesn't talk about him much. Each time I ask about him, she calls him a son of a bítch." She says matter-of-factly, as if those words were not new and strange to her.
"Holy shit." A voice came from behind me and I smile already knowing whose it was. "I'm so sorry about how she talks. Seems like she remembers every single thing I tell her."
"That's because you say everything in her presence." I reply chuckling about how she frowned at her daughter.
"Ophelia, can you go to your room and go read about whales?" She ushered her in, fixing her little curls before she leaves.
