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Omg, YES!!!
Alitha
I just need a small sample of her DNA.
Dahlia
Is she sleeping now? Pull out a strand of her hair or something.
Indigo
…
Alitha
It would be much less risky to just get some from her hair brush.
Dahlia
True, true.
Indigo
I’M NOT GIVING YOU BIZZARE BITCHES A HAIR SAMPLE.
Alitha
That’s Dr. Bizarre Bitch to you.
Dahlia
I just snorted.
I lock my phone and carefully get up, not wanting to wake Vega. She looks like a green cherub, her skin shimmering in the early light of the rising sun. I grab my toiletries out of my suitcase and head for the bathroom. Reaching one arm into the shower, I turn the water on and undress as I wait for it to get hot.
Nobody texted me. Not my mother. Not my father. Not my sister. The Unholy Trilogy replied, of course, but nobody from last night, my own family, dared to see how I’m doing or apologize for their awful behavior. Whatever. I can’t let them ruin this week, or let the panic take me. There’s a gorgeous woman in the bed I got to sleep in last night, and I won’t let anyone ruin that for me.
The warm water washes away my troubles, as it always does. I regret not packing purple shampoo. Dahlia is gonna kick my ass by the end of this week. Maybe I could get some at a store nearby? I’ll put that on the to-do list, which was recently updated.
On my to-do list:
Decorate for Christmas
Get Vega out of my system
Buy purple shampoo
Not on my to-do list:
Developing feelings for my boss
Waiting for an apology from my mother that’ll never come
I’m not doing a great job at the not-list, but I’m trying.
I brush through my hair, detangling it gently. It’s Gratefulness Week, dammit. Instead of being miserable and spending the day sulking about my family, I’d rather find something to be grateful for—like fucking the sexy orc that’s lying down in the other room. After giving my body a solid 3 rounds of scrubbing, I turn off the water and look at myself in the mirror. It’s time to put on the ritz.
Getting out my blow dryer, I consider making a potion that would permanently render it silent, but decide to charm it quiet instead. Butt-naked, I stand there, drying my bob. Throwing on some winged eyeliner, I add the final touch of my signature deep purple lipstick, and shimmer into the bra and panties that Dahlia made me pack. They’re lacey and black, and I think now’s a better time than ever to put them to good use.
