Rinsette
pizza-connoisseur
.................He slips between the pages of a life of an adventurer, piecing together the last parts of his journey. Lost in a luscious verdant jungle, he stoops down and sneaks silently to finally posses the last piece he needed to figure out his obscure past. He had forgotten it and parts of his past would visit him like an old friend who you had forgotten the name of. His fingers wrapped around the precious gem, the last piece of his memory physically embodied in the shape of a gemstone, glittering in the suffocating afternoon sun of the rainforest. He pressed the gem to his chest and he remembered. He remembered everything about himself: who he was ten years ago, what he was, and who he was at this very moment.. Everything was so clear, so sharp and detailed.. So exhausting, wonderful, saddening and terrible. Draining, too. Draining to find out that the friend who he kept close to him was betraying him the entire time. The friend stood beside him and guided him to this point, only for him to find what he had been hiding. An argument erupts, a brutal one with sharp dagger-like words and silvery poison tipped letters and he is magnetized.
"Rowan, we need you.." A voice whispers to him and he is enticed. "We need you now."
He dives deeper into the story, only for him to slowly realize that it was his mother calling him, not the words on the page. He snapped out of his captivation and turned his head to the small figure in the doorway.
"Rowan, you need to move all your extra stuff out of the rooms. The guests should be here at any moment." She had that same slightly annoyed look on her face that she always did when he didn't answer her on her first call.
"Hurry up." She snipped, before turning around and closing the large adorned wooden door.
And he is retracted from the fantastic world just as quickly as he was thrown into it. With a sigh, he closed his book and pushed his seat back, the wooden chair scraping up against the tiled floor.
Making his way upstairs, he goes straight to the guest room to move his books and other papers, making sure the room was clean of his paper trail. He did the same for the other rooms she had asked to be cleaned, and promptly after she used her hands to smooth over his hair, telling him he had to "make a nice impression for the new guest."
As if the girl would have any interest in the reading I do.
At this point, I was ready for her to be here already. So all this preparation would be over, and she could truly see what our house had to offer for her.
The worst thing about traveling alone, to Dyani, was the fact that after her mom's funeral, she'd had a 8 hour flight to mull over her death, and another two and a half hour drive from the airport to her new place of residence to think about it some more. The book she'd brought, paired with all the music on her phone, was not enough to block out the thoughts that kept circling back to her. Eventually, she'd fallen asleep. Despite all of her mind's busyness, she'd managed to actually fall asleep.
She'd woken up conveniently only a few streets away from her new home. She looked out the window, taking in what she could of her new surroundings. It wasn't a bad place. A bit warmer-looking than Canada at this time of year, and a lot more populated. Houses are much further apart where she's from. And then, after a few more turns, the car comes to a stop in front of a house. A woman stands outside, smiling and waving at the car as Dyani tries to prepare herself for interaction by taking a deep breath. She grabs her bag by its top handle and starts to exit the car. It's been a while since she's actually had to hold a conversation with someone; almost 13 hours, to be exact.
The doe-eyed girl manages a smile, giving a short wave at the woman on the steps of the house. Might as well attempt to be friendly for a few minutes.
A few more minutes and she's heading inside with her bags, straps criss-crossed across her chest with a backpack on her shoulders and a suitcase in her hand to top it all off. Once she's crossed the threshold of the house, her breath leaves her almost immediately as she looks all around her--Outside, the house was pretty; but inside, the house is gorgeous. It's not overly indulgent, but it's well-furnished and on the larger end of the size spectrum, but not too big to lose its homely feeling.
She wonders, for a moment, if her mom had seen it.
And then the woman's calling up the stairs, her voice ringing in through the house. Dyani's shaken out of her trance--A son? She's got a son? Not that she's interested or anything (In fact, she's not interested at all), but she can't recall for the life of her anyone mentioning anything about a son. Is he her age? Is she going to be expected to talk to him? It's summer, so there's no school--Is she going to be expected to hang out with him?
With all the questions in her mind, she finds it useful to maintain a stoic expression as she peers up the stairs from her position in the middle of the room.
Rowan made his way down the case of stairs, keeping his eyes lowered and his head down. "Sorry about the bit of a mess in the house," his mother laughed apologetically as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands folded in her lap. Upon her sons arrival, her fingers touched and prodded at him, tucking his locks of hair behind his ears while still maintaining to keep her eye on the girl. "Mom.." With a annoyed groan, Rowan shrugged his mothers attempt to tidy him up, moving himself away from her.
"Oh, I'm so happy you're finally here!" His mother exclaimed happily as she rushed toward the girl and enveloped her in a warm, motherly hug. "Such a beautiful girl, I'm so sorry all of this is happening to you," She muttered as she squeezed the small framed girl, a soft pout on her face as her eyes closed in the hug.
"If there's anything you need, darling, I don't want you to be at all ashamed to ask me, alright?" She leaned up from the hug and rubbed the girls shoulders sympathetically.
Accepting a nod as a just answer, she scurried over to Rowan, resting her hands on Rowan's shoulders. "This is my baby boy Rowan, he's about the same age as you so at least this house won't seem so lonely," His mother gave Rowan a "be nice" scowl, before turning to her and smiling, her failed attempt to make a corny joke not phasing her in the slightest.
She then grabbed Rowan's arm and pushed him forward. "Rowan, sweetie, why don't you help her with her bags?"
Doing anything to keep away from his mothers clutches, he ducked under her arm quickly and began walking towards the girl. As he made his way to the girl, his arms extended, he just now realized that this was his first time ever seeing this girl with his own eyes.
His mother was right. Though she was overwhelming in her motherly ways, she was right about this.
She looked as if she came straight from the pages of a novel. The doe eyed, innocent protagonist with long black hair tucked behind her ear and wearing a modest smile. She had a beautiful healthy glow to her skin, a color that found its way to shine under the flame colored lights of their house. Rowan managed to make his gaze at her only brief as he took the handle of the bag she held and offered his other hand out, waiting for her to hand him something else of hers.
Dyani tried not to stare when the boy reached the foot of the steps, his mother immediately flying to him and attempting to tidy his hair before approaching her and hugging her affectionately. It was a tight, close hug that immediately reminded her of her mother, and so she stepped back right when she got the chance, nodding quickly in answer. She had to tilt her head down for a moment, blinking back tears of stinging memories.
By the time the woman was introducing her son, she'd managed to recover quite well. In the chance she was given to look at him, she took in his appearance: slept in hair, strong, defined jaw and dark eyes with a story to tell. He had more than a few inches on her in the height department, and carried himself like her favourite book character.
"Thank you," she murmured, licking her lips and needing to break eye contact with the attractive hero. Dyani removed one of the bags from her shoulders, ducking under its strap and handing it to him, avoiding eye contact after a glance up at his face.
Rowan. He could be a hero. He could also be a villain.
"You're welcome." His lips twitched upward in a slight smile, his eyes drifting away from the girl to the luggage he was carrying. "Go on and show her to her room," His neurotic, wide-eyed mother placed her hand on his shoulder again, ushering him to the stairs. "I'm sure the poor baby girl is incredibly tired from such a long trip.." She turned back to Dyani again, offering yet another look of sympathy.
Rowan just shook his head and rolled his eyes. His mother was entirely too melodramatic, and he was sure she was putting Dyani in a very uncomfortable state. If anything, she was probably ready to leave the room and get away from this crazy lady she's realized she's forced to stay with now.
Rowan looked at the girl, shrugging his shoulders slightly in a gesture to follow him.
Hee made the climb up the long, cherry wood stairs; the kind of stairs that creaked and looked so old they seemed almost unstable, but gave so much character to the grand house that it would've looked strange with anything else.
The stairs wobbled a bit as they climbed to the top, and when they got there they began their trek down the long hallways, adorned with instilled vases filled with fake flowers and large pictures of old, long gone family members cascading into bright, chubby babies. Quite a selection of them were of Rowan throughout different periods of time in his life.
Most of the time he felt like ripping them down, because any time new guests came to tour the house, they'd laugh and giggle and observe pictures of Rowan with his front teeth missing or baby butt in the camera. His mother still treats him as if he stopped aging at five.
It bothered him to no end.
Alas, they made it to the guest room that Dyani was supposed to subside in. He silently placed the bags down by the door, and with a stretch, he spoke."Alright, here we are.." His arms returned to his sides, his eyes flickering towards the girl. "This'll be your room for your stay.. The bathroom's down the hallway for whenever you need it. He smiled slightly again, his dark eyes watching her for a second before speaking again. "Oh, and don't worry about my mother.. she's a little overwhelming sometimes, but she's a real.. character." His eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner, shaking his head again at the thought.
"Rowan, we need you.." A voice whispers to him and he is enticed. "We need you now."
He dives deeper into the story, only for him to slowly realize that it was his mother calling him, not the words on the page. He snapped out of his captivation and turned his head to the small figure in the doorway.
"Rowan, you need to move all your extra stuff out of the rooms. The guests should be here at any moment." She had that same slightly annoyed look on her face that she always did when he didn't answer her on her first call.
"Hurry up." She snipped, before turning around and closing the large adorned wooden door.
And he is retracted from the fantastic world just as quickly as he was thrown into it. With a sigh, he closed his book and pushed his seat back, the wooden chair scraping up against the tiled floor.
Making his way upstairs, he goes straight to the guest room to move his books and other papers, making sure the room was clean of his paper trail. He did the same for the other rooms she had asked to be cleaned, and promptly after she used her hands to smooth over his hair, telling him he had to "make a nice impression for the new guest."
As if the girl would have any interest in the reading I do.
At this point, I was ready for her to be here already. So all this preparation would be over, and she could truly see what our house had to offer for her.
_______________________________________________________
The worst thing about traveling alone, to Dyani, was the fact that after her mom's funeral, she'd had a 8 hour flight to mull over her death, and another two and a half hour drive from the airport to her new place of residence to think about it some more. The book she'd brought, paired with all the music on her phone, was not enough to block out the thoughts that kept circling back to her. Eventually, she'd fallen asleep. Despite all of her mind's busyness, she'd managed to actually fall asleep.
She'd woken up conveniently only a few streets away from her new home. She looked out the window, taking in what she could of her new surroundings. It wasn't a bad place. A bit warmer-looking than Canada at this time of year, and a lot more populated. Houses are much further apart where she's from. And then, after a few more turns, the car comes to a stop in front of a house. A woman stands outside, smiling and waving at the car as Dyani tries to prepare herself for interaction by taking a deep breath. She grabs her bag by its top handle and starts to exit the car. It's been a while since she's actually had to hold a conversation with someone; almost 13 hours, to be exact.
The doe-eyed girl manages a smile, giving a short wave at the woman on the steps of the house. Might as well attempt to be friendly for a few minutes.
A few more minutes and she's heading inside with her bags, straps criss-crossed across her chest with a backpack on her shoulders and a suitcase in her hand to top it all off. Once she's crossed the threshold of the house, her breath leaves her almost immediately as she looks all around her--Outside, the house was pretty; but inside, the house is gorgeous. It's not overly indulgent, but it's well-furnished and on the larger end of the size spectrum, but not too big to lose its homely feeling.
She wonders, for a moment, if her mom had seen it.
And then the woman's calling up the stairs, her voice ringing in through the house. Dyani's shaken out of her trance--A son? She's got a son? Not that she's interested or anything (In fact, she's not interested at all), but she can't recall for the life of her anyone mentioning anything about a son. Is he her age? Is she going to be expected to talk to him? It's summer, so there's no school--Is she going to be expected to hang out with him?
With all the questions in her mind, she finds it useful to maintain a stoic expression as she peers up the stairs from her position in the middle of the room.
_______________________________________________________
Rowan made his way down the case of stairs, keeping his eyes lowered and his head down. "Sorry about the bit of a mess in the house," his mother laughed apologetically as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands folded in her lap. Upon her sons arrival, her fingers touched and prodded at him, tucking his locks of hair behind his ears while still maintaining to keep her eye on the girl. "Mom.." With a annoyed groan, Rowan shrugged his mothers attempt to tidy him up, moving himself away from her.
"Oh, I'm so happy you're finally here!" His mother exclaimed happily as she rushed toward the girl and enveloped her in a warm, motherly hug. "Such a beautiful girl, I'm so sorry all of this is happening to you," She muttered as she squeezed the small framed girl, a soft pout on her face as her eyes closed in the hug.
"If there's anything you need, darling, I don't want you to be at all ashamed to ask me, alright?" She leaned up from the hug and rubbed the girls shoulders sympathetically.
Accepting a nod as a just answer, she scurried over to Rowan, resting her hands on Rowan's shoulders. "This is my baby boy Rowan, he's about the same age as you so at least this house won't seem so lonely," His mother gave Rowan a "be nice" scowl, before turning to her and smiling, her failed attempt to make a corny joke not phasing her in the slightest.
She then grabbed Rowan's arm and pushed him forward. "Rowan, sweetie, why don't you help her with her bags?"
Doing anything to keep away from his mothers clutches, he ducked under her arm quickly and began walking towards the girl. As he made his way to the girl, his arms extended, he just now realized that this was his first time ever seeing this girl with his own eyes.
His mother was right. Though she was overwhelming in her motherly ways, she was right about this.
She looked as if she came straight from the pages of a novel. The doe eyed, innocent protagonist with long black hair tucked behind her ear and wearing a modest smile. She had a beautiful healthy glow to her skin, a color that found its way to shine under the flame colored lights of their house. Rowan managed to make his gaze at her only brief as he took the handle of the bag she held and offered his other hand out, waiting for her to hand him something else of hers.
_______________________________________________________
Dyani tried not to stare when the boy reached the foot of the steps, his mother immediately flying to him and attempting to tidy his hair before approaching her and hugging her affectionately. It was a tight, close hug that immediately reminded her of her mother, and so she stepped back right when she got the chance, nodding quickly in answer. She had to tilt her head down for a moment, blinking back tears of stinging memories.
By the time the woman was introducing her son, she'd managed to recover quite well. In the chance she was given to look at him, she took in his appearance: slept in hair, strong, defined jaw and dark eyes with a story to tell. He had more than a few inches on her in the height department, and carried himself like her favourite book character.
"Thank you," she murmured, licking her lips and needing to break eye contact with the attractive hero. Dyani removed one of the bags from her shoulders, ducking under its strap and handing it to him, avoiding eye contact after a glance up at his face.
Rowan. He could be a hero. He could also be a villain.
_______________________________________________________
"You're welcome." His lips twitched upward in a slight smile, his eyes drifting away from the girl to the luggage he was carrying. "Go on and show her to her room," His neurotic, wide-eyed mother placed her hand on his shoulder again, ushering him to the stairs. "I'm sure the poor baby girl is incredibly tired from such a long trip.." She turned back to Dyani again, offering yet another look of sympathy.
Rowan just shook his head and rolled his eyes. His mother was entirely too melodramatic, and he was sure she was putting Dyani in a very uncomfortable state. If anything, she was probably ready to leave the room and get away from this crazy lady she's realized she's forced to stay with now.
Rowan looked at the girl, shrugging his shoulders slightly in a gesture to follow him.
Hee made the climb up the long, cherry wood stairs; the kind of stairs that creaked and looked so old they seemed almost unstable, but gave so much character to the grand house that it would've looked strange with anything else.
The stairs wobbled a bit as they climbed to the top, and when they got there they began their trek down the long hallways, adorned with instilled vases filled with fake flowers and large pictures of old, long gone family members cascading into bright, chubby babies. Quite a selection of them were of Rowan throughout different periods of time in his life.
Most of the time he felt like ripping them down, because any time new guests came to tour the house, they'd laugh and giggle and observe pictures of Rowan with his front teeth missing or baby butt in the camera. His mother still treats him as if he stopped aging at five.
It bothered him to no end.
Alas, they made it to the guest room that Dyani was supposed to subside in. He silently placed the bags down by the door, and with a stretch, he spoke."Alright, here we are.." His arms returned to his sides, his eyes flickering towards the girl. "This'll be your room for your stay.. The bathroom's down the hallway for whenever you need it. He smiled slightly again, his dark eyes watching her for a second before speaking again. "Oh, and don't worry about my mother.. she's a little overwhelming sometimes, but she's a real.. character." His eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner, shaking his head again at the thought.
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