Hello Darling,
Miss me yet?
I’m certain you’re overcome by my absence, but worry not, love.
It won’t be long now.
Let these flowers be a reminder of us and all we shall be—together.
May you ache for me every time your gaze catches sight of them.
My heart squeezes.
“Playing dirty, are you?” I whisper.
December hums, “What?” and snatches my bouquet to settle the stems in a place where only pasta should ever be.
Pointing the corner of the card at her chest, I declare, “What has he told you?”
Her hands fly into the air as she squeaks, “No, please! I’m just the messenger.”
“A likely story! Tell me what he’s scheming. You said he plans to marry meagainst my will. How?”
December sways, hand to her forehead. “He said you wouldn’t hurt me. He promised.”
I scoff. “As if you can trust that knave. Vampires only care about themselves.”
“Yes. Well…” December glances at me, one mischievous eyelid cracked. “They only care about themselves…and their thralls.”
I gasp. “That’s black magic! You wouldn’t.”
December cuts her gaze elsewhere. “Wouldn’twhat?”
“Youwouldn’ttell him details about the story. You wouldn’tdare.”
Wicked, she lets a positively villainous smile curl her lips, putting evil dimples on full display. “Imightdare. Just a little bit. Who are you to say what I would or would not do?”
“Theauthor.”
“Oh noo. I’m shaking in my custom baby-seal leather boots.” Her eyes spark.
I shudder. “You monster.”
Giggling, she heaves my pot of roses and sunflowers up out of the sink and sets it on my table, in full view. Altogether, the arrangement is…us. The brilliant sunflowers mingle in the soft, full darkness of the roses. It’s alluring. It’s dangerous.
No one has ever given me flowers before.
There’s a charm to them, I suppose, but that doesn’t make the act any less cliche.
December says, “Do you think I could dry and scrapbook some of them?”
Distracted, I murmur, “Does he really think I’ll succumb to something so generic?”
My sweet friend smiles gently. “I think you don’t have a clue what’s about to hit you.”
Yikes. “What are my chances of survival, doc?”
“Poor.”
