Delilah O'Connor
Shifting the gear into park and shutting the engine off, my hand nearly carried out its momentum in reaching for the door – but in the overwhelming, sweet silence, I couldn't bring myself to pull the handle just yet. With a slow, steady breath, my eyes catch the dark red petals of rose bushes flourishing in beds around the house. They had stood there as long as I could remember, almost as rooted in the ground as I am old.
"Cheater!" His shrill voice echoes in my head, almost making me cringe.
"You're such a cry baby, duck," I groaned, exasperated with his dramatics.
"Don't call me that!"
"Should I call you swan instead?" Even at seven years old, I was fairly seasoned at riling my little brother up.
He growled, the sound swiftly turning into a scream of frustration as he stomped his car-themed light up shoes on the driveway. His fists clenched even tighter at his sides.
"Be quiet! Mommy will get mad," I hushed him, reaching over to cover his mouth. I had noticed her as we came outside, watching TV cozily bundled up in a blanket, and knew she would not appreciate being interrupted.
"Fine." Hans pouted after pushing my hand away, eyebrows still scrunched to show his displeasure. "But I want to play a different game, this one is stupid."
I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Okay—"
"Get inside, you two. I need to fix my truck, and I can't do that with you rascals running around screaming." Dad's voice carried from the garage, putting a stop to our truce.
"But daddy! There's nothing to do inside." The six year old whined, his previously tightened fists slacking and his shoulders slouching over in disappointment.
With a promise that we would be as quiet as mice, we scurried off to the garden where bushes of multi-coloured roses had made their home. They had a knack for overtaking any stone or plant that they lay across, blocking sunlight with their spiked vines so that any other life remained shriveled and weak. With their demise, these other less worthy varieties of foliage were cheated out of potential admirers, who now only found pleasure in the lush bushes with vibrant, perfect bunches of soft flowers. Alongside the rose bushes, Hans and I had played rock paper scissors, cards, thumb wars, and whatever other quiet game we could think of while sitting on the little bit of hot stone that was visible, the calming scent of roses filling our quiet but excitable atmosphere.
A high pitched whine pulls me out of my head, a furry head with floppy ears poking through the gap between the headrest and window to knock into my own with urgency. She knows she's home.
"Okay, okay. Let's go." The familiar words sparked excitement in the dog, her whines only growing louder.
Lugging my purse out of the passenger seat, I pull myself and then Kaato out of the car. We walked up the interlocking leading to the front porch, the door opening just before we could reach it.
"Kaato! You're back!," the enthusiastic voice cried in a dramatized tone. The dog, just as dramatic, jumps right into his open arms, forcing him to wrap his arms around her so as to avoid her plummeting to the ground. She licks his face all the while sneaking in whines and yelps, trying to claw her way even closer to him, which I'm not quite sure is possible.
"Did the mean lady dognap you, hmm? I knew you'd find your way back home. You're such a clever dog, yeah you are." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Hans' unfiltered recount of his hallucinated version of events.
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For Them | 18+
Romance"I really am sorry." "I know. Now lift your skirt for me," he demands, standing behind my sprawled out figure on his desk, rolling up the sleeves of his button up. I feel my face flush, and I lift my cheek from its position on the solid wood desk to...
