When Clyde Parker, the wayward son and the rotten-apple of the Parker family-tree, storms his way back into Avery Fields, he sets out a flurry of butterfly effect in Dawn Marshal's life.
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HE DIDN'T NEED TO open his eyes to see her. He felt her even before he had seen her. He imagined her face being flustered, a scarlet tint, her eyes asking questions he didn't have the answers to, her fussy fingers stroking his hair.
She had the fingers of both a reader and a writer filled with paper-cuts from all the late-night flicking and her cuticles tainted with ink of all the times she had lied in her journals.
A mischievous smirk lingered on his lips. He was awake. He had been awake; she wondered for how long.
Her cheeks reddened and she bit her lip. Whatever happened to her sassy comebacks. When he opened his eyes, he stared at her as if the word 'CREEP' was stamped on her forehead in bright red.
"Really, what were you thinking last night? Leaving the windows open like that, inviting burglars!"
"You know on a second thought, I might take the burglar any day if it meant not seeing you!" she said cynically, "I am going for a shower" She treaded to the washroom, her body sluggish.
"Mind if I join in?" He poked his head inside the washroom, wiggling his eyebrows in a comical way.
"In your dreams, Parker boy!" she slammed the door on his face.
"Well aren't you a little ball of sunshine!" he called out from the other side of the door.
°•°•°
"Open up Velma!" Clyde banged over the shower. Turning off the faucet, she reached for a towel, wrapping it around her body. Her feet waded on the tiled floor as she sloppily walked to the door.
She craned her neck outside the washroom and glanced at him, questioningly, "What do you want?"
"The oceans are drying and I can hear the Little Mermaid crying, care to hurry up," he tapped his foot, impatient, "I think your little Blondie is gonna wake up soon."
With the corner of her eye, she could see Mia stirring, tossing and turning. She could hear the rustle of the sheets being shifted.
Clyde pushed past the door and barged inside.
"I am in a towel!" she gasped.
"I don't care, D!" he shoved her towards the shower. "Shh..." He brought his finger to her lips, "Can't deal with both Barbie and Nancy Drew now."
She could hear the pattering of water dropping down the faucet and Mia shuffling outside. Clyde's breath didn't reek of smokes this morning, it was breathy and minty. Clutching the towel around her body tightly, she staggered as he approached. His face unfathomable, still a lopsided smirk lingering on his lips.
Two steps backwards and she was pinned to the tiled bathroom wall. Her breath hitched inside her neck and horses galloped within her ribcage. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. He leaned closer, turning on the faucet and water rained down the shower.
