My Champagne Problems

11: Taittinger

'Sometimes the best thing to do is, to do nothing'

"Someone broke into our home," mum says solemnly.

A thousand thoughts and a million questions flood my mind, but in that moment all I can utter in response is "oh."

"Honey you don't hav--" Instinctively I take a step back as mum takes one forwards in an attempt to comfort me.

"Was anything taken?" I ask--I don't know why I do cause I could care less about anything being stolen.

"Not that we know of, but there are people looking into it," she reassures me, all while trying to musk her own growing concern--she was never good at hiding her emotions.

"But for the time being, just to be safe we are going to be moving you and your mum to a safe house," Ryan explains, coming to stand beside mum and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Graham," I blurt out, causing a room full of eyebrows to be raised. "He was supposed to come by today and drop off my notes," I explain, my eyes snapping to meet Ryan's.

"He's fine, we took care of it," he nods and I return the gesture.

"We should head to our rooms and freshen up. Deal with the rest of this tomorrow, it has been a lot for a single day," Enrique concludes just as I stifle a yawn.

My eyes roam across the room taking in everyone's state, only to find exhaustion and concern as a common denominator in them all.

"C'mon Liv, I'll show you your room," Wesley says a detectable note of gentleness in his words, just as everyone splits and heads on their way.

I nod wordlessly and he leads us towards the other side of the house in the opposite direction in which mum and Ryan are headed, but in the same direction as Kayden and Enrique.

"And I almost forgot, here," Wesley hands me a duffle bag--a familiar one. I look down at it with a frown, then lift my gaze back to Wesley's in a questioning glance.

"Admittedly in a hurry, but your mum packed some of your clothes for you," he explains and I nod in understanding.

Coming to a stop in front of a dark brown wooden double door, Wesley pushes it open and flicks on the lights to illuminate a simple grey and white bedroom.

A queen size bed pushed against the wall at the very end of the room with dim lighting and a bay window.

'It's simple, I like it'  I conclude mentally.

"My room is just down the hall if you need anything," he says pointing at the door a few rooms away from mine. I nod to indicate understanding and with the bag clutched in my hands I enter the room.

Wesley leaves me to myself and heads towards a room of his own. I shut the door behind him and dump the bag on the neatly made bed and unzip it only to find pants, my entire skincare collection, and a few other essentials.

Grabbing the edges of the bag I flip it over, emptying its contents on the bed and groaning at my discovery. All the shirts mum has packed are not suited for the chilly weather engulfing this area.

'She must have not realized it in her hurry'

Nevertheless, with my limited alternatives, I grab my sweats and the warmest top I could find and hope in the shower. 

Exiting my warm shower and reentering the cold biting room, my arms wrapped around my body for any form of comfort, I dive head first into the bed throwing caution about my wet hair to the winds and wiggling my way under the heavy duvet for warmth.

My face buried in the pillow my arms tucked under my body with my knees, I let my mind process the events of the day.

'Would calling Graham right now be a bad idea?' I wonder, but the possibility and probability of me putting him in danger even though unintentionally is not worth the comfort I'll derive by knowing he's safe.

A knock reverberating through the walls of the room pulls me out of my thoughts and move just enough to let my head out from under the covers.

"It's open," I call out to the knocker.

"Hey your mum made us some food," Wesley says and I just grunt in response.

Weighing my options I'm caught in a dilemma between a growling stomach and my shivering body.

"You okay there?" Wesley asks--from the sound of his voice he's still at the threshold of the door.

"Thermostat's broken," I reply.

"We only use this house in the summer, so the thermostat can only cool the room," he explains, causing me to hurry my head deeper into the pillow.

"Liv, can I come in?" He asks and I just grunt in approval.

Momentarily he is by my side with concern radiating off of him. "What's wrong?" He inquires with an undertone of worry.

"Cold," I reply.

"It does tend to get a bit chilly here during the night," he acknowledges. "I have an extra sweatshirt you could borrow if you want," he adds as an afterthought, and I nod in eager acceptance.

He leaves the room and returns minutes later and hands me an off-white sweatshirt, that I pull on and find that it cascades down my frame till my knees.

A single glance in the mirror and I sigh at my reflection. 'I look like I'm a floating bobblehead'  I conclude as the color of the sweatshirt blends in perfectly with the room color.

But the warmth engulfing me and shielding me from the bitter cold compensates for its appearance. A light trace of Wesley's usual perfume still detectable under the stronger scent notes of the Tide-Pods it was washed in.

Sweeping my hair away from my eyes and tucking it behind my ears, I pull at the sleeves--that have engulfed my entire arms--till at least my hands are out and mobile.

With that, I reach for my door and mosey my way downstairs with a little struggle I manage to locate the kitchen with everyone already there.

"You look cute in that," Wesley winks teasingly and I just roll my eyes.

I find a seat on the island with rest with food filling up the majority of the space on it, we soon begin to eat with minimum chatter--just how I like it.

And while any conversation that took place is with regards to the events of today, they make it a point to remain as cryptic and vague in their words as possible, making it impossible to decipher what actually is going on.

But while their conversation does pique my interest--especially with the reaction it's evoking out of mum, no matter how hard she's trying to mask it--my entity attention and focus are directed at one thing and one thing alone; trying not to stain the off white sweatshirt.

Author's Note:

Another day, another chapter...hope you're enjoying the story so far.

This chapter wasn't much I know, but I'm planning to make up for it in the next chapter.

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Thanks for reading

~Kia