“Merely making my point,” Crispin said, taking a step back with a satisfied look on his face.
“He does have a good point, Kell,” Dorian added with obvious regret. “She is rather cute. I mean, I can’t promise that I won’t be tempted either. Besides the obvious sexual tension, the reason we all moved in here together in the first place was because of our mutual Gothness. We wanted a place where we could be ourselves, and not be judged for it. You said so yourself, Kell.”
“Yes, but we are not animals, are we?” Kell challenged them with a glare. After a calming breath, he turned his attention back to Becky. His housemates were right. Could he trust himself not to make a play for her? Probably not. Everything about her reeked of sensuality, innocence, and all that good stuff. “Yet, you both make perfect sense,” he added regretfully.
The finality in Kell’s words effectively crushed Becky’s hope for a nice place to call home. At that moment, she wished that the ground beneath her would open up and swallow her whole. She was doomed. Her fate would be to wander aimlessly throughout the next four years of her life, friendless and homeless. Visions of sneaking into the college library at night to sleep, and showering in the gym facilities, crossed her mind.
“Becky, please understand…” Dorian said, dragging his fingers through his shaggy mohawk. “We wouldn’t hurt you or anything, but we are grown men. Just look at what happened last night when Crispin barged in on you in the bathroom. What if you had been… you know?”
“Thanks for bringing that up,” Crispin said in a snarky voice.
“I’m just saying that it could have been worse,” Dorian insisted. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. For example, I know I like walking around naked every now and then.” Crispin and Kell grimaced at the image he painted.
They went on and on for what seemed liked hours about the many reasons why she was not welcome. By the time they were finished, Becky couldn’t have felt worse or have made herself smaller by shrinking impossibly further into the armchair. How could she have been so desperate as to have imagined that she would fit in here? Or that Kell would stick up for her? He hadn’t lived up to her initial expectations at all. Obviously, he wasn’t interested in her friendship. Had he simply been polite or was it more like what they’d eluded to, maybe it was just about wanting to get into her pants. Desperate for any form of attention, she’d obviously misunderstood his interest for kindness or something more. How pathetic of her!
Pulling her legs up into her chest, Becky buried her head into her knees and unsuccessfully resisted the urge to give into a case of the shudders.
They were right. She hadn’t considered that sharing a house with three grown males would be a problem. She had just assumed that they would be mature enough to handle it. Especially being Goths. Somehow, she was under the impression that they would be fair and open minded. Apparently, even Goths were slaves to their sexuality.
“I’ll go pack up and leave,” she said after a few uncomfortable moments of silence.
“Have something to eat first,” Kell said, feeling like a complete shit head. “You hardly touched your toast.”
“Yeah, come on, let me put another couple of slices down for you,” Dorian said, quickly vacating the room.
A tad taken aback by his easy victory, Crispin frowned at the sight of the girl’s shaky little form. He winced at the unrelenting sound of thunder, and the large incessant raindrops, drumming at the windows. He shouldn’t even care, but the thought of her wandering around aimlessly in the rain, dragging that humongous suitcase was a bit… saddening, even to him.
“I’ll call you a taxi as soon as you’re ready,” he said stiffly, following Dorian into the kitchen.
“Come, have another cup of coffee,” Kell offered, gesturing for her to follow.
Reluctantly padding up behind him, she reached out and tugged on his shirt. “I’m sorry, Kelley,” she said with eyes downturned. “I was wrong to have come here.”
“Oh, it’s all right, love,” he said, taking her small hand in his much larger one. He encouraged her to sit down at the kitchen table. “You had to try, right? No harm done.” She looked up at him then with such vulnerability in her eyes, her tousled hair in disarray, giving her the appearance of a scared little animal. Her delicate little hand felt cold and slightly clammy. When she abruptly pulled it away from his, it stung him a little. Sadly, he realized that it was her way of saying that he was no longer of any help to her. He wished he could have saved her the inevitable disappointment. He wasn’t anyone’s hero, least of all hers.
Dorian had already refilled her cup of coffee and placed two slices of perfectly toasted bread in front of her. The three sombre Goths helped themselves to fresh cups of coffee, and then sat quietly flipping through the morning paper as if nothing amiss had transpired. Truth be told, none of them were actually reading a word of it.
Sadly, amidst the strife, the coffee no longer tasted good to Becky. In fact, her taste buds felt like sand paper. Her mouth was as dry as the desert, and truth be told, she couldn’t taste much at all.
Devastation will do that to a girl, she thought with a laboured sigh. Then as if things couldn’t get any worse, her throat suddenly felt as though she had swallowed a porcupine. There was no way she would be able to finish her toast.
“What’s the matter with you? You’re looking a tad pale,” Crispin asked, glancing at her skeptically.
It was true, thought Kell, she did suddenly look as though she was about to pass out.
“I… don’t know,” she said, placing her half-eaten piece of toast down.
“I’ll bet she’s caught a cold,” Dorian said, slightly shaking his head.
“Great…” muttered Crispin. “Jolly good show, sweetheart. Win any Oscars lately?”
“Falling asleep outside on a cold porch will do that to you, no doubt,” Kell said, ignoring Crispin’s sarcasm. She was perspiring now, her forehead, slick with sweat.
“Wow, she doesn’t look good at all,” Dorian observed.
“Looks like the flu to me,” Kell said, watching her thoughtfully.
“No… I’m f-fine.” Sweaty one moment, freezing the next, she suddenly realized that she was indeed coming down with something horrible. No, this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t afford to be sick. She’d be leaving soon. To where she didn’t even know.
“Yup, here it is,” Dorian said, pointing to the front page of the newspaper. “Flu virus hits local college dorms.”
“Wonderful…” Crispin muttered, rolling his eyes. “Just perfect!”
“S-sorry…" Becky said, feeling completely miserable and out of sorts with herself.
“Never mind,” Kell said, taking her gently by the arm and leading her back upstairs. “You’ll feel better soon enough.”
“I’ll call the taxi, shall I?” Crispin said, following close behind.
“Give it a rest, would you?” Kell hissed over his shoulder.
***
“So that’s it then?” Crispin asked accusingly when Kell joined him just outside Becky’s door. “We’re stuck with her?”
Kell frowned at him. “What would you have me do, set her out on the front porch and let her ride out the flu by herself? Since when have you become such a heartless bastard?”
Crispin flinched at the accusation. He was not heartless. He merely preferred that people saw him that way. It was a defence mechanism, put in place to protect himself from getting too attached to anyone. He had a reputation to uphold. He was Goth, after all.
“Fine, she can stay until she gets better,” he bit back at Kell. “In the meantime, I’ll take it upon myself to find her more suitable lodgings.”
“What is she to you? Nothing more than a stray cat?” Dorian asked, passing by with a glass of water for Becky.
Chapter 4
The next few days went by in a blur. With headaches and muscle pain throughout her feverish body, Becky came in and out of consciousness only long enough to
use the bathroom, drink some water and take aspirins that had been kindly placed on the night table.
During those times of relative lucidity, she was aware of Kelley or Dorian’s presence in her room, Kelley’s most of all. She was pretty sure, he had even slept in there one night on the rickety chair by her mattress.
Somebody must have changed her sweaty sheets, at least, a couple of times. She vaguely recalled being carried and placed on a larger bed at one point. When she had woken up later, she was back in her recently refreshed bed.
Peeking under the top sheet, she realized in dismay that she was no longer wearing her original set of pyjamas. In fact, she was wearing a rather long, unfamiliar black t-shirt and nothing else!
Before she could get too upset over the unsettling fact, Becky fell back asleep. Once again, she forgot all her concerns.
***
“Just where do you think you two are going?” Crispin asked in a panic as Kell and Dorian made a break for the back door.
“We’re going out for supplies. We’re out of aspirin and tissues,” Dorian explained, zipping up his knee-high black boots.
“Both of you? Together?” he asked, aghast. “Who’s going to look after sleeping beauty while you’re out galavanting?”
“Come on, man. I’m sure you can handle it. With any luck, she won’t need anything for a while,” Kelley said with an impatient frown. “Besides, Dorian and I need some air.”
It was the honest truth. They had both been cooped up in the house all week, taking turns looking after their sickly houseguest.
Not that he had minded, really. In fact, he had gotten quite attached to the poor little thing, as sick as she was. There’d been times, during the seemingly unending malady when she had unconsciously cuddled into him, burrowed into his embrace with such… or never mind, he must be losing it. That’s why he needed to get away for a little while. To clear his head.
“She better not need anything. For I haven’t the time or patience for such matters,” Crispin huffed.
“Don't be an ass, Crisp,” Dorian lamented. “It's not that hard, really.”
“Absolutely not! Not bloody likely!” Crispin scoffed defiantly as his housemates ignored him and clambered out the back door. Not acceptable! He would not play nursemaid. That particular role was not in his nature. She had better not want anything, or she would have to fend for herself!
Slowly gravitating towards the bottom of the stairs, he reluctantly listened for signs of life.
She had been sick long enough, he thought with a frustrated frown. A full week to be exact. She would have to get better soon. He had a mile long list of available lodgings lined up for her.
He held onto the banister, listening. Nothing, not a peep. Perhaps he should just check on her. If she was up, maybe it would be a good time to go over the list with her.
Hesitating, he took a step back and glanced at his reflection in the hallway mirror. Handsome, he thought to himself as he ran his manicured hands over his long dark mane. Too handsome to be locked up here at home, looking after a sickly mundane girl. He adjusted the ruffled cuffs of his black vintage dress shirt and did a little turn. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t appreciate his unique appearance.
Oh, yes, he had noticed the way she flinched in his presence. So what if he wasn’t exactly the boy next door? Neither was Dorian or Kell for that matter yet she didn’t flinch quite so much with them.
Indeed, he had definitely noticed the way she looked at him the other day at the diner. Before he could even open his mouth to say hello, she’d taken off like a shot! She’d taken one look at him, and run off like he was the angel of death in the flesh!
The heck with her. She could take her prejudices and stuff them for all he cared. Yet, he’d being lying if he said it hadn’t stung a little. Why did people, girls like Becky especially, feel the need to fear him? He wasn’t a monster!
Neither was he willing to change to please others. That’s why she could not stay here. He couldn’t handle seeing her flinch every time he walked into the room. That was no way to live.
At the sound of soft footsteps above, he snapped out of his musings and moved quickly out of the way. He hid into the living room and listened. God forbid she want anything. Hopefully, she had just gotten up to use the bathroom. That’s it, she would then go back to bed and pass out again.
Moments later, he heard the toilet flush. Now, back to bed with you, he willed.
***
Unable to sleep any longer, Becky flung the sheets off herself and sat up in bed. Her head was pounding, her stomach growling. How much longer until she felt normal again? She was frustrated and angry at herself for feeling so useless and out of sorts.
Getting up, she dizzily made her way towards the bathroom and relieved her bladder. At least, she’d managed to take care of that matter unassisted. Embarrassed, she winced at the thought of how Kelley and Dorian had to look after everything else for her.
Besides being men, they had been basically strangers before this happened. Just thinking about everything they’d had to do for her in her semi-conscious state made her cringe. She had never experienced having men in such close proximity, not to mention in such intimate ways.
Her parents died in a car accident when she was only five. Since then, her granny had raised her. There were aunts and uncles, of course, but they lived all over the country. She had only ever met them a handful of times at the odd family reunion.
Somebody must have had to undress her! She frowned, studying the latest black t-shirt she had on. Whoever it was had obviously seen her naked! How disturbing! Had they all seen her naked? All three of them, even Crispin, the one who hated the very sight of her? Did they take turns gawking at her? Had they taken advantage? Dear God, the thought of being at the mercy of three mostly strange men, caused her to shudder.
She had been nuts to come here in the first place. Yet here she was. Feeling oddly… okay, under the circumstances.
Becky calmed herself, taking a series of deep breaths. Running her hands over herself, she carefully inspected her body for telltale signs of mischief. Not that she knew exactly what she would find or even what such signs might feel like.
Truthfully, she didn’t feel as though she had been violated in any particular way, other than in her own twisted imagination. In fact, the entire time she had been out of it, she’d had the feeling of being well looked after. Setting herself at ease, Becky straightened her borrowed shirt.
What she should do, is thank the Goths for looking after her, not accuse them of being perverts. First, though, she needed something to eat. Her belly was making an awful racket.
***
Crispin slowly gravitated towards the staircase, listening for signs of life. She had been in that bathroom an awfully long time. Could she have fainted? God forbid he would have to go in there. He cringed at the memory of when he had accidentally barged in on her the last time. She had screamed as though the world was coming to an end. Well, to be fair, they had both screamed, but that was neither here nor there.
He then heard a distressed sigh. “Oh, shit…” he grumbled.
Reluctantly, he slinked up the steps until he reached the top. There, he paused, staring helplessly at the bathroom door. Should he knock? What then? Should he offer his assistance? Oh, for Pete’s sake, he was not made for this! Thus far he’d blissfully eluded the task of looking after her, with the odd exception of placing a glass of water on her night table now and then. After all, he wasn’t a complete bastard. Besides, the other two ninnies were quite happy to do step up to the task. Thank you very much!
He heard it again, that same sigh of distress. Oh, for fuck’s sake… Steeling himself for whatever he may have to do, he crept forward and prepared to knock. But before his knuckles could make contact with the door, it magically opened, revealing to him the saddest looking creature he had ever set eyes upon.
Becky immediately flinched. She hadn’t expected to catch Crispin lurking outside th
e bathroom door. Oddly, he looked as startled as she. “Crispin…”
“Yes, it seems our destiny to keep meeting like this,” he said, dropping his hand to his side.
Looking completely unsure of herself, Becky tugged at her shirt in an effort to keep it from revealing too much thigh, not that it was even remotely possible since the shirt practically covered her to her knees.
“Everything all right then?” he asked, giving her a quick once over before averting his eyes, hoping to get away from her the first chance he got. His mere presence was obviously upsetting her. Oh, yes, he had seen the unmistakable flinch. She hated him. That much was clear.
“Where’s Kelley?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.
Of course, she would ask for Kelley. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and shrugged with feigned indifference. Why should the fact that she felt the need to ask for Kell when he was right there in front of her upset him? The fact was it did, and that irked him to no end.
“Kelley’s not here,” he spat rather indignantly. “Nor is Dorian, for that matter.”
“Oh…” she said, visibly shrinking away from him.
“Yes, I’m afraid I’m the only one here. Too bad for both of us, isn’t it?” The more she shied away from him, the more it hurt his feelings. Unsettled by the realization that he should even care, he inwardly chastised himself. He refused to let her get to him. Reactively, he retaliated with anger. “Now, if you’re done in there, get back to bed,” he ordered, pointing in the direction of her room.
She frowned at him. Frankly, she’d had enough of his attitude. Maybe it was the flu giving her a false sense of security, but she was one word away from letting him have it!
“You heard me, dormouse.” Crispin snapped his fingers at her. “Off with you!”
“No…” In her head, the word had sounded loud and powerful. In reality, it came out a mere whisper.
House of Goths Page 4
