Narcissus

Chapter Thirty-One

Having a tonne of relationship problems due to corona time and not being able to see my girlfriend but I tried not to make this chapter too angsty despite how I'm feeling lmao. Leave a comment if you can, I read every single one!

The cover pic is Elise as always, I feel like this picture for me is just Elise in every sense of the word, like an actual picture of what I imagine when I write her; although that doesn't have to be how you imagine her it's just sort of a glimpse into my own brain as the author :)

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"So this one is called William?"

"No, silly," Isla giggled happily, entirely unaware of what was going on, "That's Johnny! This is William!" The blonde girl held up a male barbie doll that looked exactly the same, and yet again my eyes wandered up to the door. I was sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by dolls, and could only see a sliver of Rita and Elise as they held a particularly terse conversation on the landing. The blood on my forehead had dried, and occasionally when I brushed past it with my hand flakes of gravel would fall from my face onto the straggly carpet. Minutes passed like hours, but eventually, I was packed into the Bentley leaving an oblivious Isla and frowning Rita on the doorstep of her modest home behind.

"So," Elise let out a sigh, sitting tensely in her seat as she gripped the steering wheel so hard her hands turned white, "What do you think?"

"I-I don't quite know what to think. It certainly seemed intentional but not entirely premeditated," I frowned.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Perhaps it was an attack of opportunity."

"Or maybe whoever this was had different plans, but something happened that threw them off," I added, and as Elise nodded vigorously, almost erratically, I sunk further into my seat as I realised I needed to come clean.

"But what was it? Perhaps they weren't expecting you to come outside. Why was it that you came outside in the first place?"

"Yeah," I grimaced, "About that. Your mother paid me a visit. Y'know, the dead one I met at the wedding."

"What!?" Elise's head whipped to stare at me incredulously.

"Yeah, we never spoke about that, did we?"

"Shit," Elise winced, and I knew that she was truly feeling sorry for herself because Elise rarely swore, "I didn't even know I had told you that."

"Well, it was a long time ago," I admitted with a sigh, "I don't blame you in all honesty, she's a piece of work."

"I'm sorry for lying to you," We pulled into the driveway of her home, "I'm not quite sure why I did that. I hadn't seen my mother in years and I suppose you get so used to lying to people about certain things you don't really consider the consequences."

"Yes, well," I followed Elise up to the front door, "I imagine you never thought I would come within a hundred miles of your mother, let alone meet her."

"Ah," Elise smiled softly, "Yes, there's that. Come on," she shut the door behind us, "Let's get you cleaned up." We entered the kitchen and I hoisted myself up onto the counter as she dove into a basket of various medical assortments. The pain of hitting my head had been sharp but fleeting and had now manifested itself into an intense, dull throb. Elise's movements were swift and careful, rather like a dancer in that it seemed everything she did was rehearsed, for it was so graceful.

"Ooh, you've even got medical gloves," I grinned as Elise came towards me, her black heels still on, coming to stand between my legs in a very intimate position so that she could get as close as possible in order to treat the wound, "Thank you, Doctor."