Chereads / Eunoia - Between Feuds as a Fake Heiress / Chapter 11 - We're Friends Now Part One

Chapter 11 - We're Friends Now Part One

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Isabelle brushes her hand off. She looks at her mother through blurry vision, tears dripping onto her shirt. Charlotte Cross. The smile she wears doesn't reach her eyes. She barely has any lines on her face, thanks to the countless face masks and creams she applies religiously. Not again.

"You're no different than your father." Charlotte takes off her glasses. She enjoys a glass of wine, dressed in a plush bathrobe.

"How is that an insult!?" She yells. With a quick bow, she leaves. Of all things, she talked back. Now she'd never hear the end of it.

She had such a lovely evening until arriving home. Isabelle's thoughts wander as she walks around the garden. The sound of running water and crickets eases her irritation somehow. Jake loved to collect grasshoppers. It is mainly her brothers fault to why she despises bugs, but from a distance they aren't so bad. Centipedes being an exception.

She lies down on the stone bench near the fountain, staring at the sky. At least the sky doesn't seem to change. It's become a habit to fear being too happy, since something bad always followed. Thanks to light pollution, she can't see much of the stars at all.

The first time she ever saw the night sky was during a flight, staring in awe out her window as they flew across the ocean. Back when days were simple.

She rubs her temples. Isabelle looks through the wine cellar but eventually lost the mood for a glass. Bottles of over glorified trash, but not a single can of beer.

"Good evening."

He leans on the door frame. A pesky bodyguard isn't needed right now. She needs to hide in her room before she runs into her mother.

"Yeah. Good evening, Aaron." She glances around.

"Would you like to talk?" Aaron inquires. It did sound good to vent, but to open up to some stranger her parents hired? Not exactly ideal. He is a good guy, but he just does whatever her parents tell him to do. Neither friend nor enemy.

"Thanks, but I just want to sleep." She said. Add a whole bucket of beer. For once, Tristan did not respond to her invite for a drink. Strange. Could he be feeling under the weather?

"Of course. Call me if you need anything."

Isabelle tosses and turns in her bed. The creeping fear in her stomach grows worse. Any moment now, Charlotte would walk in and yell. Isabelle expects it, with each pair of footsteps that pass by. If not tonight, in the morning. She sits up and wipes her cheeks.

Right now she needs company.

She got up and knocks on his door. Aaron swings the door open. He looks around carefully. She bites her lip. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why's he acting so shady?

"You have any scented candles? I can't sleep without one." She leans on the door frame. His room wasn't as messy as she thought. Not bad, for a guy. Oh, never mind his brief is on the floor.

"No. Go back to your room and sleep." He yawns.

"But I can't sleep You hungry? I feel like having a tart." She said. The thought of enjoying a sugary treat makes her mouth water.

"That's not my problem. Goodnight." Aaron shuts the door.

Isabelle sighs. After raiding the kitchen for snacks and making herself a meal, she's unsure of what to do next. Video games? A book? There isn't much left to do. Having wine would be nice, but it'd remind her of her parents.

If she annoyed him enough, maybe he'd leave and consider quitting. Or he'd snitch and she'd be in more trouble. She rubs her hands together.

"Hey let me in! It's an emergency!" She knocks on his door. They're out of flour!

"You needing more sweets is not an urgent matter." He deadpans. She pouts and walks away.

After two hours of reading, she walks around the house. As a child, she was afraid of the dark. Her brother would accompany her, even giving her a ride on his back in the dead of night. They would eat together and get yelled at for the mess they made, allowing insects inside as well. They're just beetles. They're adorable too!

The house does feel lonely without her brother around. She had no one else to blame broken plates on and where to find her phone charger. Isabelle wipes a tear from her face. She knocks on his door again. Is this is third time tonight? Oh well. He'd cave in eventually.

"Hey, Aaron? We have a problem." She casually chews on a mint leaf, satisfied with the groggy look on his face. Slowly but surely.

"And it's another Tuesday. Leave." He groans. She crosses her arms. Fine, then! Isabelle rolls onto her bed and kicks off the blanket. She paces around her room, out of ideas. She makes herself comfortable on the railing, watching his door from upstairs.

One of the maids knocked on his door and it swings open.

"What is it now!?" He demands.

"I.. apologize. I will not disturb you." The maid apologizes.

"No! No. Sorry. It's.." Aaron scratches his neck, smiling sheepishly at the housekeep. He spots Isabelle from above and narrows his eyes at her. She smiles, enjoying the scene. That's what you get.

As the maid leaves, Isabelle stretches her arms and yawns. She slides down the railing, happily content. With his eyebrows pressed together and pink ears, he doesn't look intimidating. Especially not with that dinosaur t-shirt he's wearing.

"Please?"

Aaron stands still for a moment and laughs softly. He pats her back and shakes his head, a smile on his face. What a dork. Whatever he is up to in his room, it isn't sleep. Maybe he's watching raunchy videos? No way. He doesn't seem the type.

"No." He replies. Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose. She did like having him around, but she couldn't make it obvious. What if he has a secret lover he only video calls at night and she just disturbed him? Isabelle looks down.

"I'm hungry. Let's eat something." She smiles. The more she tried to get rid of him, the less obvious it'd be. At this hour, most of the maids have gone to sleep. With both parents no-where in sight, she doesn't know what to think.

Isabelle heads downstairs. The kitchen had been redecorated, again. Rather than the robin egg blue from last month, her mother replaced it with a new set. The gold, white and black marble is over the top. Mother doesn't even use the kitchen. It's a waste of money. On the bright side, plenty of ingredients to use.

He leans on the counter, unamused. When they first met, she half-expected him to have the physique of a limp noodle. Who'd have known that grumpy cute guy from the hospital would be here?

Mother changes the theme so often, but doesn't bother renovating it to suit Isabelle's height. She has to climb the counter to reach the top shelves to get things. Who needs a ladder? Firstly, it's noisy.

He blinks, watching her. The marble is like ice on her bare feet. Not like someone with his height would get it. Aaron could just lift his arms and be done. She sits on the countertop, cross legged as she enjoys a snack. Isabelle offers some biscuits to him. These are leftovers from the store earlier, but they're great. She did make these, after all. He tries one and wordlessly scoops his hand in, eating them like chips. Score!

"You like them?" Isabelle asks, her chest swells with pride.

"They're good. What flour do you use?" He said. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge.

She couldn't reveal the recipe, all her days of trial and error would be for nothing. No way would she just tell anyone. That doesn't include Chloe or Ashley, she tells them absolutely anything.

Isabelle pulls out a can of whipped cream and places some atop the biscuits. Perfect. The blend of warm vanilla and subtly soft cream fills her mouth.

"Is your offer from earlier still open?" She makes a mini sandwich, placing a generous amount of whipped cream in the center.

"Only if you'd want it to be."

The two set the glass table on the balcony and lit a scented candle in the middle. That jerk. He had one all along! Aaron's hair is still as messy as ever, but he's wide awake now. How adorable. She wants to play with his hair and find out if it's as soft as it looks.

"I'm nervous for tomorrow."

Isabelle nibbles on her croissant. Another match up with some wealthy, snobby man. The things her parents make her do make her question herself, at times. Would Aaron understand how she feels?

"You saved my Uncle. I'm confident you can handle anything they toss at you." He puts his phone in his pocket.

"How is he?" She takes a sip of her drink. The warm, savory chocolate hits the spot.

"He's well, thank you."

"I still can't process that you're my bodyguard. I expected some buff guy with a thick mustache." Isabelle confesses. Maybe some greasy, bald guy who ate steroids for breakfast.

"I could grow a beard." He said, rubbing his chin. She blinks, trying to imagine him growing hair. No, no way! Isabelle sputters and coughs, the smell of cocoa in her nose. Aaron chuckles.

"Tell me about yourself, please."

"No." He puts more sugar in his cup. He takes a quick sip and a sad smile appears on his face. Does he not like this brand or what? Geez.

"That's an order, Aaron." She pats her mouth with a tissue. Too bad she doesn't have any makeup on. The lighting on the balcony would've been perfect for a dewy, sweet natural look. It had been awhile since it'd been cleaned, so the tiles have a thick inch of dust. With the constant rain this month, it's no surprise.

Isabelle runs the tip of her fingernail against the glass table, tracing the metal frame. In her younger years, she'd just relax here with a book. It'd be peaceful until her brother would climb down, running off while putting on his shoes. His friends would follow or run off, occasionally waving goodbye to her.

"Isabelle?"

She looks up. Aaron pats a tissue on her cheek. Oh.

"I... just need money. No other reason." He said. Just like that? Why would he need more money? He could just ask his family for help. Her parents, no matter how ridiculous their demands are, always provided her with what she needed.

As a child, she constantly asked her mother for all sorts of toys and things. Sometimes she'd agree right away, but Charlotte asked if she could buy it next time. At the time, Isabelle agreed. Mother always kept her promises. The display of dolls, stuffed toys and life-size toys comfort her on lonely nights. Jake constantly made fun of her, saying she's too old to have them. Like she'd want to hear the opinion of a flirtatious troublemaker. And a messy one, at that!

Isabelle looks down. Past the balcony doors and down the hall is where her brother's room is. She can only touch the handle before tears start forming. He'll be back, eventually.

"What about your parents?" She grabs another piece of bread. This is her third croissant this evening. Why did he buy her such a necklace if he was tight on money? The story doesn't add up at all. She crosses her legs.

"They aren't on good terms with each other. It's up to me, since..." Aaron trails off. He opens his mouth to continue but shakes his head and closes his eyes. He avoids eye contact and swallows. What's he hiding?

He looks up, their eyes locked in a shared understanding. His long eyelashes collect his tears and she squeezes his hand. Aaron pulls his hand away, looking down. She shouldn't have asked.

"I've said too much. Sorry." He scratches his nose.

"No worries. You don't have to talk if you don't want to." She said. Isabelle finishes the last croissant and easily cleans up the table.

"I'll see you in the morning." He said, excusing himself. Isabelle's smile matched his, the false empty kind shown to an audience. She gives him a light hug and watches him leave. He smells like laundry detergent this time.

Isabelle dances around her room and leaps onto her bed. She whips out her phone to text Chloe. It's 3am. Ah, whatever she doesn't sleep to begin with. After five missed calls, she huffs and crosses her arms. Each time she closed her eyes she saw Aaron's solemn expression. She shouldn't have asked.

She tosses and turns, unable to put her thoughts to rest. The scented candle didn't do much. Maybe an exceptional meal tomorrow will make up for it? Rather than focusing on sleep, Isabelle kept thinking about breakfast. No, a shopping spree! Anyone would love getting a new pair of shoes.

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