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But he loved calling her that. She was only five years old when he first saw her, and all he wanted to do at that time was pull on her pink-bowed pigtails.
He stopped the workout, his head still pounding, and sat on the floor with crossed legs. He could feel the heat oozing out from each pore of his body. Grabbing the towel beside him, he wiped his face, and said, "What, Pigtails? You don't want me to call you Pigtails? Fine, if you don't want me to call you Pigtails, then I won't call you Pigtails. The word is pigtails, right? I won't say pigtails. Okay, Pigtails?"
She groaned, but the corners of her mouth pulled up. "You're insufferable!"
He grinned, still breathing heavily, and stared at her as she sat across him on the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees over the pink shirtdress she wore. Her long face was flushed, as always. It was as if she was always embarrassed or blushing. It ached to watch her for long, so he looked away.
"Anyway," she said, "you weren't picking up, so I came to tell you that I'm leaving soon, in case you've forgotten."
His smile faded. Of course. Petrichor. Xavier. The reason he'd been drinking last night. "Oh, yeah, your boyfriend must be waiting for you."
"And it's mom's second death anniversary," she said.
Shit. He sighed internally, closing his eyes, then looked at her. "I'm sorry." She smiled at that, and his tense shoulders relaxed.
She said, "How's your hangover? I've heard it's not a good feeling."
He rubbed his forehead. "What happened last night?"
"You made a new friend," she said in a sing-song voice.
Chris groaned. "Will you ever stop trying to set me up?"
"I think this was the last time. I really like her!"
"Youdate her then!"
"See, I would. But something tells me that Xavier won't be happy about it."
He ignored her. "I don't even remember her name."
"Abigail. You kissed her hand."
He squinted at her. "Nice detail to remember."
She stuck her tongue out in a childish way, then grinned. It made him smile.
"Keep smiling, Dracula," he said.
She bared her teeth, showing off her pointed, vampire-like canines, and his entire body warmed up with bliss. It had taken him a long time to restore her confidence after her mother had died. Insecurities had gripped her tightly during that time, and now that her faith was finally restored in her beauty despite the "flaws" she thought she had, he couldn't help but feel proud. He planned on never telling her, though.
"I gotta go. I haven't even started packing yet."
Again with the talks of leaving.He shrugged in reply, gesturing for her to do as she wished.
She stood up and said, "Meet me at my house before I leave. And you can totally bring me coffee."
He sighed dramatically, and she left with a grin.
He lay on his back and closed his burning eyes, his heart beating faster.Why was she so oblivious?
An hour later, Chris sat on Giselle's bed, his back resting against the headboard, and watched her as she packed. Two mugs of coffee sat empty at the side table. It was early in the morning and his head still hurt a bit, but it was nothing compared to the ache buried inside his chest.
Her door creaked open, and her Lady's Maid Ana peaked in. Abbott, her father, had insisted on hiring her, though Chris had never seen Giselle have her do anything.
"You sure you don't want my help packing, miss?" she asked, sounding a lot older than she was. If Chris had to guess, she was around the same age as him, twenty eight.
"No, Ana. Thank you so much." Giselle smiled.
