Page 9

Delaney

“Who the fuck is banging on the door right now? Don't they know only psychopaths wake up before seven on the weekend?”

I pat the person I think just spoke on the face, going by direction of sound. If I accidentally grab a crotch instead, that's not my fault. Things are very confusing right when you wake up and have gotten very little sleep.

I spent the entire night with my thoughts stuck on crazy questions I'll never be able to answer, and now I have to get up and apparently be functional. That sucks.

I'm scared our visitors are going to pound again, so I tiptoe fast as I can to the front door, hoping it's somebody here trying to kill me because I'm definitely not awake enough to be social. 20 bucks says they don’t even want to talk to me and just have the wrong room.

With my sleeping mask as a headband, and my hair well, we won't talk about that— I open the door and glare at a very angry couple that are definitely poised to pound on my damn door again.

“Can I help you?” I croak.

The woman looks me up and down, making a face of disgust before covering her husband's eyes. Just assuming here, seeing as they're both dressed in the same bland garb and are wearing wedding rings.

“Cover yourself up,” the woman hisses.

“Lady, you're at my place, rudely banging on my door at an ungodly hour and —"

“Don't you dare invoke the gods with us. You have no right. I will ask you again. Cover yourself up.”

I mean, I'm wearing pajamas. Just because my cheeks are hanging out and the spaghetti straps are doing very little to hold up the boobies, doesn't mean I'm going to rush in and change for them.

“No. How about you tell me why you're waking me up and being judgy as hell in the process. And then maybe go on about who you are.”

The woman grabs the sleeping mask off of my head, ripping some hairs off in the process so she can place it on her husband's head very carefully to cover his eyes better. I straighten my spine, mind made up about how much respect I feel like giving these people.

“We've come here to secure an engagement for our son.

It is our understanding that you humiliated and compromised him.

You ruined his value, and no one else will want him now.

If you don't take him, he's completely untouchable.

All so you could have a moment of fun, I suppose. I hope you're happy with yourself.”

I try to open my mouth and say something, I really do, but the problem is laughter comes out instead. “My brother put you up to this, didn't he?” I wheeze, stomach cramping from the sudden burst of hysteria. “Very good. Very very good. Thank you. Enjoy your day.”

I spin around to grab the doorknob, seeing as I closed it behind us to keep anybody else from waking, but she grabs my arm.

Maybe later I'll feel bad about karate chopping her in the neck for that action, but probably not. When you're raised by a bunch of assassins, you tend to be a little bit in the, ‘throat-punch-now-ask-questions-later’ camp.

The lady starts wheezing and making obnoxious sounds like I actually hurt her or something, and her doting husband rips off the eye mask that they stole from me after really creepily inhaling the smell on it, checking on his wife. “What did you do to her?”

I shrug. “Nothing she didn’t ask for. She shouldn’t have touched me.”

I take my sleeping mask back and tie it around my wrist like a bracelet, unwilling to let them have it because I love this one. I'll definitely wash it before I put it back on my face, but there’s no way in hell they’re waking me up and stealing from me before I’m even caffeinated.

“I can see what kind of conduits they're raising here,” the woman spits out between breaths. “No respect, no intention. Just running around ruining sweet, innocent children.”

“Woah, I have not had any interactions with any children, I would like that to be clear and on the record. Also, the only people I have compromised are people I’m currently very attached to,” I state, indicating my marked-up arms. “I don't know who you're getting your sources from—”

The woman gasps, and the guy now semi-crouched behind her shakes horrendously. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Perhaps you can tell me who your son is, and we can start there.

You're flinging accusations and I really don't appreciate it.

I have never harmed somebody willingly or intentionally.

You are impugning my character right now and I'm about to have a bunch of very pissed off men in the hall to deal with you if you don't hurry this up.

You don't like dealing with me? I promise you won't like dealing with my mates even more.”

“And now you're threatening me? He'll have his work cut out for him; that's for dill pickle sure. The goddess would never stand for this. She'd remove her claim on you if she saw your behavior right now.”

Okay, I'm bored. “I left my phone inside, but if you'd like, I can get the queen on the phone right now and she can tell you exactly how the goddess would respond to this conversation; But be warned, it’s eat glazed donuts off dicks day, and the queen will absolutely hold the conversation while she participates. Ask me how I know.”

“Why, you disrespectful little tart!”

It’s at precisely that point that Wil shows up, wheezing, pausing to use an asthma inhaler before he can talk. He stands between me and his parents, though. Yeah, these are definitely his parents. Huh.

“...Sorry, Delaney. I told them not to... but they... wouldn't... listen.”

I can't help but smile at how adorable Wil is with everything he does, even when he’s hunched over and barely breathing.

I’d offer to help him with a healing kiss, but somehow, I don't think that would go over well.

“Good morning, Wil.” His mother scowls at me but she can't ruin my smiling attitude around this adorable pink-cheeked man.

He directs his attention to them, putting his back to me. “I told you both it wasn't what you thought. You've just made everything infinitely worse by coming here at this time of day doing who knows what.”

He falls to his knees as he turns back to me, bowing his head while placing his hands flat on the floor.

“Your Majesty, on behalf of my family, I offer my deepest apologies for their discreditable behavior.

They have disrespected you greatly, and I'll do whatever you deem necessary to make up for the insult. We are ever in your service and pray that the goddess continues to look over our family in favor.”

“Oh my gods Wil, get up right now. Do not be ridiculous. Their actions do not reflect on you.” I bend down and grab his hands, making him stand.

He’s shaking almost as hard as his dad was a minute ago and won't look me in the face. I can tell he's incredibly embarrassed, and if anything, it just strengthens my resolve to adopt him even more.

Did I say adopt? Freudian slip.

“I'm sorry, what is it you think I did to your son? Wil’s been wonderful to me, we’re partners in class and he’s actually one of my favorite people on campus. Not sure how the fuck you two produced somebody as great as him, but it worked. I might like him more than I don't like you.”

“The other day, in the hall,” Wil says to me quietly, “you were telling me that story in the bathroom, and locked the door? That crowd of people that were out there?”

“Oh. That's right, you did say you were worried about something like this happening. You know I would never make you uncomfortable on purpose, Wil. I think very highly of you.”

He nods furiously, wrapping his arms around himself. A tear escapes his eye, and I can tell he's more than just embarrassed. He's completely humiliated, and by the sounds I'm starting to hear down the corridor, it's probably about to get a lot worse.

If people start walking out of the nearby dorms and see this whole display, he's going to be inconsolable. So, for his sake, I open my door and invite everybody in.

I direct them to the table and throw on a pot of coffee, telling them to ignore the half-naked demon sleeping on the couch, the lion that seems to have shifted in his sleep that is sprawled on the awful shag carpeting with his wrinkly balls out, and the guy in the corner, who's partially shifted with an incredible blue mane and horn on his forehead, kicking his feet up like he's having a fantastic dream.

Wil's eyes widen as he looks around, and I share a smile with him as I bring him a hot chocolate. I do not offer his parents anything, because I really don't think they deserve it.

“Now,” I whisper, “you think I compromised your son? What story did you hear?”

His mother is still glaring daggers at me, and if Wil and I continue to be friends or get closer, I highly doubt we’ll ever get on, but I'm not worried about that right now. I'm worried about taking care of Wil and making sure he feels safe with me again.

“We heard you sequestered yourself in a public bathroom. The women's, no less. You were unsupervised, and when you escaped, we heard that—”

“I'm going to stop you right there. First of all, Wil is an adult.” I look to Wil and raise my eyebrows, suddenly feeling like I need confirmation of that.

He nods, so I continue to question his parents. Somebody needs to stand up for this guy. “Second of all, Wil was only in there with me, because we were having a conversation and I needed to avoid someone that was walking down the hall. That is all the information you get.

“You do not get to dictate my life, or try and ruin your son’s, simply because you heard he did something you don't approve of.

I want to be very clear. I apologized to Wil the second I found out that I might have crossed some lines.

I am unfamiliar with the fundamentalists that require their followers to keep themselves pure before mating.

Wil and I are friends and had therefore not discussed boundaries.

I didn't think I needed to discuss that with a friend of mine.”