35 | a song

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V A U G H N

"Right foot forward and block with your forearm," Rose instructs Claire as the latter lifts herself from the floor after being thrown back hard twice. She gathers her strength, positioning herself just like Rose.

Rose chose to teach Claire the basics of preventing an attack today. So far, Claire has only learned to block a blow to her face. Not a surprise considering she got scared after seeing her face in the mirror this morning and spent an hour crying in the bathroom. I tried to tell her that it didn't matter because she looks gorgeous but she didn't listen to a word.

"I'm tired," Claire grunts when she misses stopping a punch on her arm.

Rose narrows her eyes, glaring at Claire. My sister takes her job very seriously and looks clearly in no mood for excuses.

Scary monster

"You can never be tired when defending yourself, Claire. Now, fight back!"

She holds Claire's arms, positioning them to reduce the gap between her hands so the enemy doesn't use the space between them to his advantage. Just like I taught her.

"They are good." I hear Mom comment from beside me as we both watch the girls train from the entrance.

"They are." I take a sip of my coffee, loving the bitter taste as it drowns down my throat. "But Claire needs to concentrate on her blocks. She is more focused on attacking."

"You can't blame her. That man took a part of her." Mom takes the now-empty cup of coffee from my hand and holds my arm, nudging me to walk with her.

I shove my hands into the pockets of my trousers, casually striding along. Mom has been pretty concerned about the attacks, scared even that the man might dare to come to the house.

She stops and spins around to face me. "Vaughn, darling, if you don't mind, you aren't taking too much stress, right?"

I touch the nape of my neck, avoiding looking at her as I stare at the floor. "No, Mom. I'm fine. It's just the usual amount of stress."

A look of worry crosses her face, her lips tilting downward. "And what about the nosebleeds? You don't get them anymore, right? You haven't got them in years."

"No, I don't."

Guilt squeezes my chest at my lie to her. I can't help it. My nosebleeds have gotten more frequent ever since the night Claire and I fought on our honeymoon. There has been a constant worry in my head since then concerning one thing or the other. If I tell Mom the truth, she will start worrying about me and hiding stuff from reaching my ears one way or another. She might even get upset with Claire if she overthinks it. As much as my Mom is a sweet and kind lady, her anger is outrageous.

She puts a hand over my cheek, stepping close and craning her neck as she caresses my chin softly with her thumb.

"I hope you're not lying to me, sweetie. Never lie to Mom, okay? I have already lost your father once due to this and I won't lose you too. Take care of yourself while you take care of Claire. That's all I want."

I touch her hand on my cheek, curling my fingers around it, and bring her palm to my lips, kissing it softly.

"I know, Mom." I pull her slowly towards me and hold her as she hugs me while I soothe her hair, kissing the crown of her head.

My Mom is protective that way and ever since Dad's death, her emotional sensitivity has triggered. If I am not allowed to take stress, she isn't either and my heart can't bear the thought of losing her too. I am still young but she is nearing sixty.

Even after four years, a part of her still finds it hard to forgive me for that night. Still, she keeps her feelings to herself because her fear of losing me gets the better of her. She thinks she can keep her feelings hidden from a man who has been hiding secrets for years. Secrets that aren't even his.

And it will stay that way as long as I am allowed to keep them.

I will live with the guilt as long as it protects Chris.

"Don't you think you worry too much about me nowadays?" I ask Mom as she pulls back.

"I'm your mother. I'll never stop worrying about you," she smiles, touching my elbow gently. "You will understand when you're a father."

When I am a father...

The irony of it makes me laugh inwardly.

***

The strings of the guitar feel alien when my fingers graze them. I haven't played in years. Didn't have the time to. Now that I am home for a while, I don't have much stuff to do. There is extra time in my hands to get back to hobbies but the problem is — I think I have forgotten how to play it.

"Play it!" an excited chirp makes me look up from the guitar and I see Claire standing by the door.

She had a slow dinner while conversing with Mom and Rose. Eating has been difficult for her with her stitches and it takes her time to chew properly. She is changed into a pair of white shorts and one of my shirts, the long sleeves covering half of her palms.

'Please don't make me fall in love with you.'

That's what she said to me last night but she forgot to mention one thing — how can I not when I want her to?

"Nah...I don't remember how to play."

I am about to unhook the guitar strap from my neck when Claire rushes towards me, putting her hands above mine and stopping me in place.

"Please Vaughn..." She bats her eyelashes, pressing hard over my hands.

"I don't know, Claire..." My words trail off when I see the look on her face.

She looks relaxed for the first time in days. I have missed that calmness. She hasn't been herself for two weeks. She has avoided eating or sleeping soundly. Nightmares pull her awake whenever she tries to rest and I have to hold her to me, whispering words of comfort in her ear until she falls asleep again. There are bags under her pretty eyes, making her face look downtrodden and distressed all the time.

I can't deny her little request. It would be wrong.

I sigh, shifting the guitar and placing it properly over my lap. Claire releases me and takes a seat beside me on the bed, with one leg bent under her butt and the other dangling from the edge.

"Can you sing?" she asks just as I am about to start playing.

"I used to write my own songs. Only ever finished one when I was nineteen," I tell her, readying my fingers to start playing.

"Can you sing it for me?" She moves closer to my face, her magnetic eyes keeping me riveted as I stare at them.

Playing the guitar is different but singing the song is something else entirely.

"No," I answer curtly.

"Please, Vaughn? I never ask anything of you," she persists, holding my arm gently.

When I jerk my head towards her, my eyes fall on the ruined side of her face. She quickly releases me, putting a hand over her scars as if to hide her wounds from my eyes. Her cheeks blush pink and not the good kind of pink.

She is embarrassed to face me. Fuck! How can I say no to her when she's hurting herself like that? It is my fault that she got her scars. If I was more careful to check on with that stupid driver and ensure that he was on time, just like I promised her, then she wouldn't have been hurt at all.

"Hey!" I hold her wrist, making her pull her hand from her face. "Never hide yourself from me, understand? Ever." She looks at the floor, not meeting my eyes in response. I let go of her wrist reluctantly and place a hand on my thigh. "Here, come here."

I move the guitar to the side as I pat my thigh. She eyes my hand on my thigh and then me, looking hesitant for a second before moving. She slides over me, placing herself on my lap and I wrap an arm around her body while my other hand shifts the guitar over to her lap now. I take her hands and position them on the strings, cupping them with my own.

"You want me to sing, I'll sing and you'll sing with me, okay?" I say, resting my chin on her shoulder.

She twists her neck and grins. "You never fail to surprise me, Jackson." She turns back to the guitar and holds it firmly to her body. "Teach me how to play it."

"Just follow my lead."

I take her fingers and position them on the right strings, showing her how to play them. She observes me, listening attentively and once she has understood the basic process to play, she nods at me to go on. I recall the tune of the song my mind is replaying and guide her to play it with me. The music fills the room and I clear my throat, starting with the first lyrics of the song.

Been to the future, it didn't end well.

Saw her in the arms of another

And my heart started to melt.

Memories came flooding back.

Being with her was like a dream

And now the dream is over,

Leaving me craving.

We halt for a while as I close my eyes and try to recall the chorus. I hum the song softly, the words arranging themselves in my mind until I feel like being close to the correct combination. Claire waits patiently while I guide us to start playing again.

Her smile, her eyes, her everything,

She was my heartbreak.

I was her melody.

When it's all over,

She would come to me.

From the arms of another,

Who never saw her for what I see.

I hum the rest of the words, the lyrics completely erased from my head and I see Claire's reflection in the mirror in front of us. She is smiling a bright smile, her eyes shining as she watches the rhythmic movement of our fingers over the strings. My chest inflates with high spirits watching her that way. She looks magical, all dressed in pure white and her lips adorned with that beautiful smile.

We give one last pull at the E string and the song ends with that.

"The next time you write a song, it better be for me, Jackson," she comments, meeting my eyes in the mirror on her new vanity. "Who did you write this for?"

For you — my heart aches to say. I wrote it for a girl with blue eyes and innocent dreams when she was too young to understand me.

"You liked it?" I ask, helping her out of the guitar and placing it upside down beside the bed. She starts to climb off me but I tighten my grip around her waist, keeping her in place. "Didn't think it's childish?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Jackson," she laughs, pulling her feet up my lap and touching her toes with her fingers. "It was."

I grin, lying down on my back suddenly and she squeals at my movement when she finds herself on top of me. I put my hands under my head and let her straddle my hips as she balances herself.

"Thanks, nemesis. Was wondering if you're in a good mood though...I have something to ask."

She folds her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow at me. "What is it?"

"Would you like to come to a party with me tomorrow?"

"As your date?" she hums, hooking a finger at the neckline of my shirt and drawing a circular pattern on my chest.

I chuckle at that. "As my wife, stupid. It's a pretty important party. I would be happy if you were there."

She pouts her lips thoughtfully. "I would enjoy that. But for now..." She moves her hands to my chest, circling a button on my shirt with her index finger. "I would like you to imagine I said no and find a way to convince me."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" I tilt my head down to find her popping the button open.

"You know how." She smirks, her eyes glinting with a cunning look.

With the number of times I have seen those twinkles in her eyes, I wonder how I kept myself in control for years. I would have never accepted Christopher's friendship if I knew he came with a gorgeous little sister he was hyper-protective of.

"I can be quite convincing, nemesis," I smirk, pulling my hands out from underneath my head and grabbing her ass. She gasps in response. "Now say...have you ever watched porn?"

She throws me a puzzled look at my question. "Dad kept tabs on my search history so...no."

My lips form a grin at her reply. "What a protective daddy. Wonder what he would say if he saw his daughter riding my face like a needy slut."

"I have never ridden your face."

"You're about to. Get up here."

Her eyes widen, her body stilling for moments before she drops down from my lap. I watch eagerly as she gets rid of her shorts and turns the bedside lamp off. Darkness greets my eyes and for a second, I think I have offended her somehow, but then I hear the sound of the bedsheet rustling and smell the intimate scent of her wet sex.

"I hope you make it worth my time, Jackson," Claire whispers, dragging herself on her knees until she is near my face.

I grab hold of one of her legs and make her part them as she climbs over my throat slowly, careful not to hurt me and when she is in position, I don't waste any time before squeezing the mounds of her ass and picking her up to make her sit on my face, her dripping cunt right above my mouth.

"Don't worry, blondie." She sucks in a breath at the feel of my hot breath fanning her cunt. "You'll have a real good time here."

Before she can say anything else, I press my mouth over her sweet center, sucking at her nub hard and she cries out, her hands grabbing the headboard, making it creak, as I start eating her out.

For the rest of the night, I show her exactly how convincing I can be.


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