The next time Peter opened his eyes, he was laying in a big, plush bed, staring up at a blank ceiling.
He groaned, slowly beginning to become receptive to his environment and move around. Once he had registered that he was in the same room as before, Victoria's room, he fell still.
Peter looked down at himself, expecting an injury to present itself. A bruise, a scratch.. something to signify that he had been knocked out as he assumed he'd been. But nothing would show.
Instead, he came to the disgusting realization that he had woken up in the clothes that were stacked beside him- and he was clean of all blood and smelled like soap.
He held a hand to his mouth, his cheeks burning red. He felt humiliated. Yet, a part of him felt grateful for their twisted kindness.
That was when he heard the breathing.
At the foot of the bed, on a chair, a woman sat still. She was breathing deeply, her hair covering her face. He immediately recognized her as Victoria.
"You!" He suddenly exclaimed, throwing off the covers and crawling on his hands and knees to the foot of the bed.
She stirred, snapping awake and brushing her hair back. She smiled when she saw him. "Did you sleep well?"
"D..did I..? You! You must be daft," Peter laughed anxiously, "I didn't sleep! I was knocked unconscious! And you took the liberty to bathe me and change my clothes?"
"Well, if it helps any, I closed my eyes to respect your privacy. You were being hysterical and I needed you to not cause a stir for my other kids. You have to understand that they take priority.. I'm sorry I had to do that to you." She explained apologetically.
"It's.." A wave of understanding calmed Peter's nerves. "It's alright. I should be the one apologizing."
"No, Peter. I understand why you'd react the way you did. This is new, you're confused, scared. But it will all make sense in time." Victoria offered. "Right now, I think it'd be best to get you some breakfast and show you around once you think you're ready. We'll take things slow."
Peter didn't know why he turned red when she said that.
YOU ARE READING
London Witch
General FictionPeter Bennett had always wondered why his mother passed away before he got to meet her. He had always pondered this, in silence, as if to avoid pressuring his father to compensate for her absence. However, in doing so, he begins to follow the breadc...
