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Inside, there is a small kitchen with spices and oils lined amongst the shelves and a lounge with a bookshelf. An earthy and herbal aroma lingers through the air, complemented by an ambient lighting to give the cottage a cozy, homely feel.
“This is adorable.”
“Come over here,” exclaims an excited Ris, leading me to another door. He opens it up, revealing a neatly made bed that sits underneath a sunroof. A candle burns in the corner of the room.
“Pretty neat, right?” he asks, stepping into the room. “So, what do you-”
He’s interrupted as I pounce on him, pushing him down onto the bed. I ravage him with kisses, biting his lower lip as I pull back.
“I’m feeling ready to make up for some lost time,” I growl.
“Say no more,” he replies, blowing out the nearby candle.
No more was there going to be a day spent without each other, with our hearts longing for company again. No, we were finally where we belonged, back in each other’s arms.
30
CYRA
“Here you go,” I murmur as I slide the glass onto the table in front of the khuzuth, careful to stay out of his line of sight so as not to block the performer from view.
Quickly, I spin out of the way. I know with the crowd at Le Lazurt, it is best to not be seen or heard. Tasks get done without them noticing, and that should be my goal.
Which is why I don’t understand the outfit that I am wearing. It’s thin, barely covering anything. A combination of three sheer triangles, string, a few ruffles around my hips. I have underwear that provides less of a view.
But I’d rather them look than touch, so I relent to my body on full display if it means I don’t have to subject my skin to them as well. I guess my job is a prestigious one in that way.
I slip through the crowd, standing on the lip of the upper platform surrounding the audience’s sunken seats. It gives me a special vantage point to look for any tables without drinks or guests in need of assistance.
They are all focused on the stage, and to my relief, I don’t see anyone that needs help. I get a short reprieve of balancing drinks while rushing around on impractical heels then.
My head swivels toward the chivdouyu on stage. Ris has become more of an evening performer, though he refuses to go onto the late night prime spot. His set has been bumped about an hour earlier.
Sienna told me he didn’t want to miss dinner or bedtime, and I think that’s admirable. He’s working hard to make his family his priority.
I was surprised when I saw Sienna back here, though. I thought as the mate of a famous chivdouyu, she wouldn’t want to work. Now, she has two jobs.
She manages a shop in town during the mornings, and in the early evening, she brings her son here with Ris. They all go backstage to tune his instruments and play together.
In fact, I spot them in the crowd now, little Ezra clapping along to his father’s song. Sienna holds her son’s hands in hers, playing out the melody like she is the one at the jinrayaha. I’m sure we’re all waiting for the day that Ris convinces her to do a duet with him. She’s excellent.
The back of my neck prickles, and not for the first time tonight. Someone is looking at me.
Turning, I scan the crowd, but it’s none of the audience members. I throw a glance at the bar, but I already knew that it wasn’t someone there.
No, with no surprise, my eyes land on the back wall where a set of eyes are already boring into mine like he wills to set me on fire.
I know as a miou, Lykan could if he wanted to. That should scare me, but instead, I snarl in his direction, “I dare you.”
He cocks his eyebrow likeI’m the deranged one when he’s been staring at me all night. I’m tempted to give him a hand gesture to convey exactly what I think, but I know better. Too many people could see me.
At first, I didn’t mind the way that his gaze follows me around the room. He’s not undressing me the way that most elves do. In fact, I’ve never seen his eyes stray from my face.
Instead, he stares at me with pure hatred.
I give him a glare back. He’s such a prick. The first day he came in, I introduced myself to him, and he looked me up and down and scoffed. Then, he just walked away to talk to the bartender.
That’s how our relationship has been ever since, and I am not in the business of trying to mend it. If he wants to be a dick, I’ll remind him he’s no better than me. I’m a waitress and he’s a security guard, not a patron. He can kiss my ass.
