Stella

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

STELLA BURNS

Tears prickled my eyes and I felt like the worst person in the world. Grams had told me to say nothing else than request the DNA test and here I was, rambling my mouth off to Zale and messed it all up. It wasn't even full two minutes that I talked to him. Soon the tears on my cheeks turned into sobs, racking my body.

I didn't realize that I stopped walking until I heard a heavy sigh and tissue was pressed into my hand. I sniffed, my crying stopping for a second to take it. I clutched it in my hands as I looked up at the man who was standing in the middle of the hallway. 

"Do you have a snotty nose?" I asked, my throat a bit hoarse.

He blinked at me for a second in pure confusion. "What?"

"I just assume you do because I do not think people just keep randomly tissues in their pockets," I murmured, sniffing my nose into the tissue, and suddenly paused. I tilted my head back up. "Or do they?" I asked in genuine wonder.

He chuckled. "No, I just keep them in my pockets for crying children just in case. Just like you." He bent down until we were face to face, in a way like he was readying to tell me a secret that instantly reminded me of Gabriel.

"I'm going to let you into something," he whispered in a hushed tone. "there's a lot of them coming by, especially with Zale." In the end, his tone dropped into a whisper.

I burst into giggles which I quickly covered up with a palm on my mouth. "Yeah, he's so scary," I whispered back.

"I know." He gasped dramatically. "He scares me sometimes, too."

"Then why do you work for him?" I questioned, frowning slightly - not understanding how could someone want to take orders from a such scary man.

"Well, I don't have a choice." He shrugged and straightened up to his full height, taking the steps through the hallway again and I followed beside him.

"Why? Everybody has the right to choose where they work, don't they? Or has this country become a dictatorship?"

He titled his head to the ceiling and laughed, clapping his hands together once.

"You're a weird one, kid." He shook his head in amusement. "People do have rights but not me."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions." His brows rose.

"I'm sorry," I said sheepishly, instantly shutting up. I didn't want him to stop talking to me anymore. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay." He reassured. "It's amusing, really."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I suddenly asked before thinking anything about it.

He looked taken aback. "Should I've been mean? I didn't know I'm doing it wrong." Sarcasm laced his tone. My cheeks burned. Idiot, I told myself.

"No, I mean...I don't think people like me very much." A frown pulled my face and my gaze suddenly landed on the ground.

"It's their loss then, kid. You seem like a very cool person."