The Prophecy

“Um, what?” I mumbled into his shirt, but it came out sounding more like mmmwhaf?

“I said, would you mind removing your nose from my shirt!” he practically growled at me. I could feel the reverberations of his words against my lips. It definitely felt like a growl.

 I stepped back hastily, almost tripping over my own feet. Luckily his hands were still on my arms, otherwise I would have toppled over. I tried to run a hand through my hair, but his grip halted the motion. I looked into his eyes, then off over his shoulder, and not wanting to look at him directly for fear of being entranced again. “Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.”

“Well, that much was obvious. Are you daft or something? I tried talking to you five times before you answered.”

I could have told him the truth. That I was too busy stopping myself from rubbing up against him like cat. But, I really didn't feel like having the word 'freak' branded onto my forehead. It didn't help that I was shocked at my own reaction. I quickly turned angry and sarcastic, hoping to cover up the blush that spread across my face.

“What is it with you people? I swear if I receive one more warm greeting, I may burst from all the happiness you guys keep throwing around.” I tried to cross my arms, pulling off a look of full blown indignation, but is hands were still resting on them.

“Dude, I don't know who you are or what type of personal bubbles Virginians have. Where I come from you keep your hands to yourself, unless you're invited to touch someone.” I watched as the left side of his mouth raise a little. Oh that boy better not be smirking at me. I was getting ready to lay into him, but was surprised when he backed off with his hands held up in surrender.

“Point taken. I apologize for keeping you from falling on your face—”

“I was not falling—”

“And from saving you from further embarrassment—”

“Listen here, you little—”

“So, you can apologize to me, thank me, and move on like a decent person.”

“Are you flipping serious? What in the hell do I have to apologize for?”

“For staying plastered to me and invading my personal bubble.” He quirked of his eyebrow. At me. He quirked his eyebrow at me. I was beyond anger at that point.

I moved around him without saying a word, while silently chanting to myself. I will not kick his ass. I will not kick his ass. He grabbed a hold of my arm, forcing me to stop. Wrong move, fucker.

Grabbing hold of his hand, I started to twist it, and place him in a submissive hold. Stunned, I stared up at him over my shoulder when he easily reversed the move. He locked my body against his with both of my arms crossed over my chest. My body lit up with excitement. My mind, on the other hand, was shocked into silence.

“Feisty, aren't we?” His breath bathed against my ear, causing a delicious shiver to race down my spine.

“Let go of me.” I felt my body run hot with pools of desire racing through me. I didn't understand why I was having that strong of a reaction to him.

“Not until you apologize and thank me.”

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. I just wanted this confrontation over with. I didn't think my body could handle any more changes. “Fine. I'm sorry, and thank you.”

He abruptly let me go and started walking down the street. “See, that wasn't so hard.”

Flipping him off, I turned and stomped back to the car.

“Oh, little tigress?” He called after me. I paused and sent a glare over my shoulder. His smile grew. “I look forward to the invitation.” Winking, he turned on his heel, and sauntered off.

I snapped back around and continued on to my car. Even the sight of it wasn't enough to break me out of my bad mood. I threw myself behind the wheel. “I can't believe this shit!” I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, shook my head and began the long drive home.

Chapter Six

My anger was brimming the entire way home. I sat in the driveway trying to suppress the darkness, the rage. I'd been putting my parents through enough crap lately, and didn't want to add to it. Feeling the hopelessness of the situation, I headed inside, slamming the door in my wake. Maybe my parents would take heed of the international sigh for 'pissed off and leave me alone'. And maybe cats could actually be herded.

“Hey Sunshine, should I ask how the job hunting went?”

I stopped short and glared at my father. Maybe the glare would do it. “I got a job.”

“Ah, so that's what's gotten you into such a good mood. I usually wasn't that happy until a couple of weeks into the job, but it looks like you're absolutely thrilled.”

“Your witticism is always entertaining, Dad.” I turned with military precision before anything else came out. I was pushing it and I knew it. Slamming my bedroom door behind me, I quickly headed downstairs, fearing Dad would follow to 'talk'. I didn't want to 'talk'. That just led me to having diarrhea of the mouth and a bad attitude. Maybe I was going crazy.

I took my anger out on my belongings, tearing through the boxes, and methodically sorting the stuff out while blaring my iPod. Walking with a handful of CD's, I jumped when Dad jumped out in front of me. My hands flew, scattering the CD's everywhere.

“What the fuck!”

He tried to hide his grin as he looked at me with faux concern. “You okay pumpkin?”

I ripped out my ear buds. “Oh just perfect. Nothing like having the crap scared out of you to get your blood pumping. Healthy doses of adrenaline does a body good.”

“Well, come upstairs, your mother wants to talk to you.”

“I really don't feel like talking.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I got that memo when you practically brought down the house with the reverberating slam of your door. But, regardless, your mother wants to talk to you.”

“What are you? Her messenger dog or something?”

He scratched his chin. “Well, I guess you could say that. It comes with being married I suppose. And if you don't come upstairs, I'll be in the doghouse. Pun intended.”

“Well I'll get you a nice doggy bone to make up for it, but I don't want to talk right now, so—” I flicked my wrist toward the door, mentally wiling him to go away.

 He looked around my room instead of marching off, like I was trying to mind control him to do., “You know, I suppose Eleanor could just come down here to talk to you. I know she has some ideas of how to decorate this place.”

“You wouldn't dare.” I frowned, trying to stare him down.

“Oh well, you know that she's probably going to want to do something for you now that you've gotten a job. It would be easy to place the idea of her decorating your area as a surprise.”

“Then I'll—”

“And you can't quit, otherwise the car goes back.”

I looked around my haven. I imagined all the horrible things my mother could do. There would be pastel colors everywhere, frilly lacy concoctions, and boy band posters. The mental picture was enough to make me gag. “Alright Dr. Nefarious, you win this time.”

I almost smiled at the sound of his horrible imitation of an evil laugh.

* * *

Light filtered through the floor to ceiling windows, causing dust motes to dance like fairies in the soft rays. Mom was busy unwrapping the multitude of pictures, and trying to find the best place for them. There were family photos in silver frames among the fireplace mantle. The precise placement, thanks to my mother's OCD, left everything feeling slightly cold. Even though it should have given off a warm and inviting feel in the beautiful