“Why are you still here?” I groan in annoyance and flop down on the sofa next to Julian.
Everyone has already left, considering it’s almost midnight, but Trevor is still here, and has almost finished all of my junk food. So, that means healthy food for a few days. Ugh!
“I’m staying over for the night,” Trevor shrugs, passing me a knowing smirk. Yes, okay whatever. He usually does stay over considering my brothers are close to him.
“What are you doing?” I lean forward and eye my brothers IPad he is currently using. My brows furrow upon seeing a little girls picture he’s staring at. She looks around 10, has light brown hair, small lips, and blue eyes.
He sighs, rubbing his face. “This innocent girl was murdered a year ago. Nobody knows who she is, or where she lives. The police couldn’t even find out the murderer.”
Murdered at such a young age? How do people even do that, knowing how innocent and friendly children are. The world is getting a horrible place with no protection for people of any age. If someone can kill this girl who looks so. . . fragile and happy, then there are high chances he/she is mentally sick.
I nod with my eyes glued to her bright face. She’s so. . . familiar. Have I by chance seen her somewhere? Why do those eyes look so beautiful, like I see them everyday.
“That’s heartbreaking,” I mutter, and look away.
People have lost their senses. Don’t they ever think this could happen to them also? How would it feel if it were them, like it’s pretty scary to be honest.
“I’m going to bed,” I announce, and get up from the sofa, stretching my arms above my head. Ugh, feels so good! When was the last time I worked out?
My brother nods, passes me a brotherly smile, then goes back to his device. Trevor, from across the room, grins, hoists up, and marches to me in his glory. There’s one thing I hope he never gets to find out. His Cinderella.
"Great,” I mutter under my breath. I stretch my neck to meet his gaze, and warn, “First, I am really tired, so I wouldn’t bother me. Second, my brothers just right there and I am quite sure you don’t want that ‘talk’ again,” I exaggerate, air quoting the word, ‘talk’.
His eyes travel to my brother, and a frown appears. “I doubt he’ll even hear you. What’s he doing?”
Sadness swells up inside me, as the picture of the girl travels through my mind. “He’s reading a crime case.”
He tilts his head to the side, gazing at me with such intensity that I look away. But I just got a glimpse of an emotion other than amusement and anger. This one...I’m not quite sure. Perhaps, guilt? regret? Maybe both?
Just to break this ‘thing’, I half laugh, and ask him, “Will the couch be okay for you?”
The next second, his trademark grin returns to his lips. “I don’t mind sharing.” The nerve of this man!
“I wasn’t asking,” I lie, and turn for the stairs. Truth be told, I was concerned about his sleeping area because the shoe needs to be protected from him. I don’t even want to think about the consequences.
When I hear his footsteps behind, I halt my steps and almost bump with him in the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, a little out of breath.
His brows furrow, as if I am some mystery he can’t solve. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t come in my room,” I deadpan.
He rolls his eyes dramatically, pushes past me ignoring my gasp, and walks in my room.
“Trevor! Trevor, there’s something known as ‘privacy’!” I shout, slamming the door shut behind me. His eyes roam around my room, then return to me.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he states with his lips curved.
In two long strides, he comes face to face with me. A wave of amusement travels through his eyes, lighting up his face.
“Why don’t you want me in your room? I’ve been in here several times, but you were never this scared.” I begin shaking my head but he shh’s me by placing a finger on his lips. My heart crashes against my chest, because of his evil/devilish smirk.
What if he knows I am the Cinderella. . .
“Got ya,” he whispers.
I hold my breath.