'F' Is for Forbidden

'Don't evoke liars like ourselves, look into each soul.'

Those were the first words on my mind when I opened my eyes, much to the dismay of my brain, which screamed for protection. Regaining even breaths, I sat up on my elbows, ignoring the equally jabbing pain the crawled all the way up my spine to the back of my head. My resting ground was cold and solid, which didn't help.

Finally able to adjust to my surroundings, I realized I must've only been out a couple of minutes, since I was lying on the ground of the second floor stairwell.

Patting the back of my head, I found no bleeding. It stung holier than hell, but I figured it couldn't be too bad.

Getting up within seconds, I decided not to pursue the noise any more and turned for my class.

Didn't mean I gave up on thinking about it.

What the hell was behind that door?

Entering the classroom, Mr Wong stopped his presentation on Jinn. We'd learned a lot from him, so it was no wonder he gave me a stern look.

Most teachers didn't like me, calling me indolent and destined to fail. Which, I don't think is very fair. I tried... sometimes.

"Miss Taylor, how lovely of you to grace us with your presence."

"Well, it was between you and my friend Charlie - but I gathered I'd get in less trouble with you." I snapped back.

There were a few chortles in the class. At the back of the room, Nora rolled her eyes and patted the seat next to her.

Mr Wong narrowed his and handed me a detention slip. He didn't need to say anything, I knew that remark wouldn't go unpunished.

I slipped down on my rock hard seat next to Nora. In front of us sat Dominic Rosewood, the hunkiest boy in school. I could barely make out his expression, but the pen he chewed on was close to exploding.

I licked my lips.

"Did you find anything?" Asked the voice beside me.

Meeting Nora's eyes only briefly, I shrugged lightly and shook my head. She sighed, exasperated, clearly curious as much as I was about the third floor. However, she respected that I was the only one able to go through with it.

"... Most prominently known in Islamic culture as being created in smokeless and scorching fire..."

Mr Wong's words faded as I concentrated elsewhere. My mind had a track of its own, thinking back to the third floor, and how Dominic's hair smelled like passion fruit, and how much my head stung. They all provoked me, taunted me to no end and I wished for nothing else but to understand them, give them the attention they craved.

But for now, I'd have to wait.
***

The bell rang at five o'clock, signalling the end of detention. I gathered my doodles and prepared myself to take off, but not before briefly noticing Nikolai Draken approaching Miss Hoover, our frequent detention lecturer.

Hoover was seated, back straight and hands clasped to her front as she looked up to meet the student's gaze. As the rest of the students fled past me, I hovered by the doorway, keen to watch over this interaction.

I didn't like the way Nikolai looked at his teacher. It was common sense she was good-looking, so most students googled when they had the chance. He, however, had no shame in making his interest known.

Our eyes met across the way. He smirked as I turned and began strutting towards the parking lot.

Soon by my Lamborghini, I noticed the movement of a certain familiar male beside it. He was prick and preen, with coffee coloured hair, laugh lines and eyes so dark they rivalled the blackness of the night.

He smiled when he saw me.

"Hey gorgeous, mind taking me home?" Dominic pecked a fluttery kiss to my cheek, smile growing when I leaned into it.

"Do you wish to die?"

He chuckled.

"I promise to haunt you if I do."

We jumped in, him begging to exceed the speed limit and make him feel alive as I drove him to the Rosewood manor. We arrived on our regular minute (if I still had my Chevrolet), and he pouted.

Teasing him lightly, I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him closer. The sweet taste of butter and cherry pop tingled my tastebuds, as our tongues stroked each other goodbye.

Withdrawing, he placed his forehead on mine.

"I love you."

I smiled and kissed him again. A few more times still before he strode out and shut himself behind his golden-plated door.

Regaining my composure, I shifted the vehicle back into ignition and made a beeline for my own home.

Traffic wasn't as damning as usual, so I arrived within a good time. Seeing the dusty wake of gravel behind my mother's Range Rover meant she hadn't been back long.

I swung open the door, hanging up my bag and jacket on the rack. It was almost full now. As I turned to face the staircase, I could already make out the Latin pop music coming from the kitchen. I guess I wouldn't be able to escape to my bedroom for a few minutes then.

So, I decided to show face. Ambling through the cold dreary halls, I avoided the gazes of my stony ancestors and kept on trudging through. My stomach growled, but not out of hunger.

"Bonjour, mi belle!" The harsh ringing tone that could only ever be Sabine sabotaged my eardrums.

I approached the kitchen island, where my mother stood speaking to the help. It was hard to tell if she'd had Botox today or if it was just the lighting.

"Jensen, why are you late?"

I propped myself on my elbows as I looked through the bowls. Sneaking a shrimp and avoiding Sabine's mock glare, I spoke with what would be called 'purpose'.

"How can I be late if the food isn't on the table?"

My mother touched her bun, even though her hair was perfect as ever. I figured she just did it whenever she was annoyed with me.

Which was like 100% of the time.

"Go through to the dining room and wait until it is served." Her tone told me she wasn't to be tested. I guess work must have been extra stressful today.

I begun to move, all too eager to be out of this bright and intense environment, when she called me back.

"Can you please inform your brother as well? That man has been working hard all day."

Giving her a raw smile, I shot out of there. Living with parents like mine wasn't easy.

Our mansion was... well, a mansion. Endless halls, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling ready to drop if given the chance, horrible wallpaper and paintings tarnished the tall walls. It was all bright and gave off a glow most people awed and envied at the same time.

I didn't.

I mean, I liked who I was, how I'd grown up and who I shared those memories with -- but I didn't like this. The walls sometimes felt too high, like the bars of a prison cell. Except I was one of the inmates.

I hated being a spoiled kid.

Sighing, my thoughts dissipated when I could make out the ramblings of my brother. Edging closer to his door, I took a quick peek inside.

Dellos's room, unlike everywhere else, didn't flash how great it was, or begged to be paid attention to. The dark, gothic atmosphere made you feel at ease. It caused the ball that quenched in your stomach to feel like foam.

The man himself, sat by his desk, surrounded by a viscous amount of papers. There were towers of them all, ready to collapse if at the single startle.

So, I rapped lightly on the door with my nails. His head whirled.

A smile broke out among his sweat-ridden face.

"Dinner is almost ready."

He laid down his pen and sat back, stretching to the high heavens.

"I think I had a crab sandwich for lunch."

I shook my head. "That was yesterday."

"Oh. Well, can you tell them I--"

"Downstairs. I think you deserve a break." I gave him my best puppy look, he'd never been able to resist it.

Sure enough, he chuckled.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming. Just stop with the look already, you know I'm a sucker for it."

Giggling, I took his hand as I dragged him down the stairs with me. We sat opposite each other, as always, and exchanged secret expressions when our parents began bickering over their latest clients.

At one point, I was sure he kicked me under the table. I hit back in response, waiting for a game of footsie to begin.

But he just carried on eating.

I guess it must have been an accident.