"You are mine baby doll and no one can take you away from me."
I saw her after her dance class. She looked exhausted and tired. And innocent. Oh so innocent. She had to be mine. She must be mine.
****
Stephen Ripper gets what he wants and if he doe...
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what grade are going to be in?
***
I sloppily pour the sauce over the noodles and cheese, not caring if I make a mess and stain the pretty white countertops. I could care less about the state of the house. I hope it burns down with me in or out of it for all I care right now.
I'm preparing the lasagna for tonight's dinner and Devin should be here soon. Stephen is in his office, as usual, working. I'm not really sure what has him so stressed but he chose to be a criminal so he has a price to pay.
Sometimes I think he expects some sort of empathy, or at least sympanthy from me. I think he wants validation and I seem like the easiest person to get it from. I can tell that through his passive-aggressive comments and dramatization of the simplest things that he wants some sort of recognition or validation.
But he's coming to wrong person.
I won't feel sorry for him. Ever.
I hate him.
Once I am done prepping the lasagna and I place it int he oven and set the timer.
I sit down at the table and put my head down in my arms. For some reason, I'm very tired today. It's probably because I didn't eat breakfast. I close my eyes and try to sleep. I probably had my head down for about twenty minutes before I hear voices.
"Stephen it smells nice-oh,"
I hear people enter the kitchen and lift my head and stand up to face them.
Once again, I am taken aback by how attractive Devin is. It hasn't even been that long since I've last seen him. His blond hair was neatly placed nad he wore a dark blue t-shirt that complemented his eyes.
I give him and Stephen and a small smile. Devin smiles back and Stephen gives me a small nod.
"It smells good in here," Devin says.
"Yeah, I just put something in the oven," I tell him.
I look down at my clothes and blush. My t-shirt has pasta sauce all over it and leggings have smeared cheese on them. This is quite embarassing.
I awkwardly maneuver around them and go back to Stephen's room to change. Once I am in clean clothing I go back downstairs.
They are talking about the meeting on Thursday but once I make an appearance the conversation slowly dies down. They would never let me know anything important.
The oven beeps, signaling that the lasagna is done. I put on my oven mitts and take it out. I set it on the stove and then close the oven.
"That looks amazing," Devin says, breaking the silence.
"Thanks," I say quietly.
I feel a presence up behind me. "It looks delicious baby doll, thank you," Stephen lightly pecks the back of my head.
I ignore him and get plates for everyone. He stands back from me awkwardly, probaly having expected some sort of reaction instead of none.
