Afterlife

18 | Dinners, Dates, and Discoveries

"We don't have to go you know..." His voice trails off, but he looks me in the eye as if to check his comment had stuck with me.

I step on the bed with a sigh and shake my head. My hands brush against his neck, pulling the tie around.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I stare at him blankly trying to control my emotions before calmly answering.

"What do you mean?" He raises his eyebrow, but I quickly brush the look away and finish tying. "I'm fine."

"You can talk to me-"

"If the tone wasn't obvious enough for you, I don't want to talk about it." Flint steps back and I immediately regret the words that pushed him. "I didn't mean to say it like that," I mumble. 

He comes closer with a nod and says, "I know you didn't." He carefully pecks my forehead as if I would break with one touch. "If you're up to it, we can go to the royal dinner, or we can sneak out to my place and watch television."

"As enticing as that sounds, I promised Aura I would show up today, and I don't go back on my promise." I explain, cradling his hand in mine, and leading him towards the door. 

"That is just one of the of the million things that are amazing about you," Flint says, staring down at me with a grin. 

"Oh, really? What are the other 999,999?" 

"I'll get back to you on that."

-☠-

I look up at Flint who sat across from me, and I know he felt the same. He gave me 'wow-this-dinner-is-not-going-well' eyes.

Either that, or he really has to poop. It could go either way.

I throw him a weak smile, while I continue to poke at my salad. Turns out, salad is a pretty elite meal. Sure they have underworld substitutes, but it isn't the same according to Flint.

Group two, six, eight, and ten literally go to the human world to steal the real deal for the wealthy. Turns out most of the time it isn't bunnies, and really just a dead person stealing your crops to feed the underworld.

How elightining.

It actually makes me want to eat it less, but I guess you can't think too much down here.

The ting of a glass, brings my attention towards the Queen and away from my stolen salad.

"Bring a bring bring!" The Queen cries in a sing songy voice.

"Mom, you don't have to say bring a bring bring every time you-"

"Bring fricka bring." She says again, this time a bit more defensivily, interuppting Julian. "Anyways, I just wanted to notify that we are going to play our family game now. This time we will be playing laugh for your love."

Oh, no. I roll my eyes as Logan squeals clutching Julian's hand and sends me a glare. God, was she annoying. I had a few minutes of peace without her in my mind, but now she is there and won't leave.

Looking back at Flint, he has a huge grin on his face, and Laurence, who sat next to him, has an even bigger than one.

I still don't understand how him and William are allowed to come, but at least they will attract most of the attention here.

Personally, I hate family game time, and I am pretty sure everyone else- other than the Queen- hates it as well. At least I have Flint to get me through this.