true colors - jb & ag 《completed》

{ten}

Ariana made her way down the front stairs while uncomfortable tingles raced across her shoulders. She paused and scanned the deep shadows gathering beyond the arched doorways branching off the dark foyer. She couldn't say why the house had this effect on her even after she'd discovered the identity of their "ghost." But it almost felt alive, as if the home had a spirit of its own, and it didn't approve of its new residents.

Gripping the handrail, she took another step down. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the entryway echoed in her ears, her pulse throbbing in time. Was Justin already in the house? He'd asked for more time, and she would give it to him, but how much time? She couldn't hide his presence indefinitely.

Another step.

She wouldn't be downstairs alone at all except she'd skipped dinner, and her rumbling stomach had forced her out of hiding. Rainn's high-pitched whine echoed down the hall from his room, indicating that Mom had her hands full as they worked on her brother's homework. Good. Ariana had no desire to rehash their argument.

Another step.

Wind pushed against the house, shaking the windows in their frames like a death rattle in an old man's throat. Ariana gripped the railing tighter. The eves above answered with a long moan. Visions of the resident ghosts at Hogwarts made her glance up at the ceiling, but in the gloom the crossbeams held tight to their secrets. Maybe she wasn't hungry after all.

A resounding gong boomed through the house. Ariana swallowed a shriek and raced back up three stairs before she recognized it was the doorbell. She stopped to catch her breath and then jogged down into the foyer, yelling that she'd get it.

The side windows, with their original now-warped glass, were useless, so after a second's hesitation, she cracked one of the double doors. Her hand on the lock, she peeked out, ready to slam it shut again if . . . if what? A robber stood at the door? Unlikely.

Straightening her spine, she swung the door wide. Justin stood to the right of the entryway, a steady breeze lifting the hair off his forehead.

"What are you doing?" Ariana gasped.

Justin raised a darkly amused brow. "I thought I was ringing the doorbell."

"Who is it, Ariana?" Mom called.

Ariana's gaze swung back to Justin, who offered a smile. "I came to talk to her . . . your mom."

Footsteps sounded from the second floor.

"It's just a kid selling tangelos for band, Mom! No need to come down."

"Okay, tell them I already bought some from the neighbor."

"All right!"

Grabbing Justin's hand, Ariana tugged him through the door, shut it behind her, and led him to the farthest corner of the dim living room. A rush of electricity traveled up her arm and flared in her belly as she registered that his strong, warm fingers had closed over hers. She stopped in front of the empty hearth and yanked her hand away, spinning to face him.

Justin's closed lips quirked up on one side, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "I had no idea you'd be so happy to see me."

"Lower your voice," Ariana hissed as she glanced at the ceiling and then back to him. But she had to readjust the angle of her gaze to account for his height. How had he gotten so . . . large? She'd grown maybe an inch or two, but it was like he'd doubled in size in four years.

"Like I said," he continued in his deep rumble, "I came to talk to your mom."

"Well, she doesn't want to talk to you." Justin's jaw flexed and Ariana bit her lip, wishing she could take back the tone of her words. What was it about him that brought out this thoughtless aggression? "I mean . . . um . . ."