Fairytales and Nightmares

I stood in front of the giant, perfect white house like a petrified sheep right before being slaughtered by a wolf. Nate caught my frightened expression, bringing him to double in half with laughter.

“I have never been this close to such a thing before,” I said slowly, eyeing suspiciously the subtly wild garden and huge-ass metal gates.

“Imagine if I took you through the front entrance,” Nate replied, rolling his eyes. He took my hand against my protests and pulled me into the fairy-tale-like house.

I didn’t think it was possible, but the inside was even nicer than the outside view. In fact, it was so clean and so beautiful that I was scared of walking on the gorgeous marble floors in fear that I would get them dirty. Nate looked unnecessarily amused at my careful treading and incessant staring. He took me to the fourth floor (fourth floor!) before we met him.
At the sight of Landon wearing just boxers and appearing disgruntled from waking up, my heart dropped through all four floors.

Landon looked just as surprised as I was. He stared at first me, then Nate, then back at me, taking in our drenched clothes and Nate’s arm still around my waist. Suddenly, he roared with laughter and walked past us, patting on Nate’s shoulder just long enough to say, “Got yourself into another shitload of trouble, huh?”

I turned around, staring shockingly at Landon’s back as he disappeared down a hallway. Nate seemed completely unworried.

“Don’t tell me…that trustworthy person you mentioned…IT ISN’T LANDON, IS IT?” I ranted, dangerously close to beating up Nate.

Nate glanced down at me and replied casually, “He won’t say anything”.

I was going to challenge that statement when Nate suddenly shoved a dress at me.

“Ugh, too small,” Nate murmured, going through the racks of girl clothing. It just occurred to me then that we were in some kind of gigantic closet. Eyeing the children outfits, I could only guess that they belonged to Gracie.

Nate shoved a pretty-looking top in my direction before murmuring the same comment. He did with another piece of clothing, and then another, and then another. No matter how many times I insisted what I had on is fine, Nate went through one rack after another. He finally settled on a cute black skirt; however, due to my tall height, none of the tops fit me. Nate heaved a sigh, glanced at the huge pile of discarded clothing, and then left the closet (room?). He returned shortly with a white t-shirt that he threw at me.

Nudging me towards the direction of a washroom, he told me to take a shower before closing the door behind him.