Get out of my room, Nova.
I don’t know what you want me to say.
You have to learn to be your own person without me.
How do you expect me to take your side when you’re wrong?
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Turning the knob of the door, it opens and the first thing I notice is how it smells like strong incense.
They may have had a high budget, but no tastewhatsoever.
White porcelain hallway covers the width of the empty frames on each side.
Taking my shoes off, “This is nice.” The mic picks up every word.
Rolling my bag down the long hall, two arched openings welcome me. The left side has a wooden dining table. The right being a cozy, yellow-painted library.
Sparks start from the tip of my toes and rush their way up towards the ends of my hair.This is my heaven.“Oh my gosh, this is so pretty!”
“I think someone’s here,” an elegant voice murmurs.
“Should we go greet them?” The other one has a slight accent.
“Hi!” I scream out to them before I have the chance to think about what the heck I’m doing. Who doesthat? Screaming to a bunch of strangers like I’m a freaking banshee. “Sorry,” I’m quick to add. “That must have been weird.” I leave my bag near the reading room and walk straight until another wide-arched opening to my right introduces me to two faces and the back of one’s head. “I thought I was being quirky by doing that, I’m kind of regretting it now.” Cheeriness and smiles erupt out of me. By the look on their faces, they don’t know how to react.
“I’m Nova,” I pop my shoulders up and wave.
It takes them a second. The woman—the one with the elegant voice—catches herself and returns the smile. It’s poised and holds a tad bit of judgement, but I am nothing without a little bit of that in my life. I’m used to it.
Her hair is the perfect length, right below her shoulders but not too short or long. Goodness, her back is as straight as a rod. And she’s stunning, absolutely, hands-down gorgeous. She has a beautiful set of round almond-shaped eyes with their lids covered in a practiced brown, smoky eyeshadow.
If only makeup were my strong suit.
“I’m Katarina,” she says with that soft voice of hers.
“And I’m Shaan,” he stands up and walks over to greet me. His hair falls over his forehead and his lashes brush against the very top of his brown cheeks as shows off his pearly white teeth. I take his extended hand and my eyes catch onto the last man in the room.
He stands with his shoulder pushed back. Turning around, hereels back with one look at my face.
My smile grows.
The low timbre of his voice as he says, “I’m Rhys” amuses me. The last time I saw him, he didn’t have a beard. Slightly trimmed hair covers his cheeks and a thicker goatee type of beard specks around his mouth. His body is thicker, leaner—still sort of the same as I remember. His ice blue eyes remain kind and suspiciously knowing.
Whatever nervous tick there was in my shoulder untangles itself and I let them rest. This isn’t too bad. Katarina and Shaan seem nice and well, Rhys is Rhys.
I know him enough to feel comfortable.
“Come sit with us,” Rhys points his hand in the direction of the couches with amusement shining in his eyes. “We were talking about each other’s favourite films before you came.”
“Oh!” With a step to my walk, I end up beside Katarina who not so subtly, shifts away. I try not to let it bother me. “What was everyone’s answer?”
Rhys leans back against the couch, one foot propped over his knee. “The Bodyguard.”
“Ooh, romance enthusiast?” I ask with a tilt to my chin. It’s surprising, considering I thought he’d like something serious and mysterious like… John Wick or something.
“What can I say?” He shrugs one shoulder with a half-smile. “I’m a Whitney Houston fan.”
