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Remnants of Departed days

Lancelot Real is known to be the restaurant’s head chef – but behind his impressive performance is a secret job of his at night – being a killer, for he was raised to be one. With darkness seen in him, Evangeline, a bright, cheerful and empathetic person, sees the need to pull him out of ‘dark.’ He knew that love is a luxury he can’t afford and knew that his love for Evangeline was wrong from the very beginning – because he was the one who was tasked to kill Evangeline’s relative. Will love keep no records of wrongs, or justice will prevail? ------ Genre: Romance/Crime Status: COMPLETED

yahnree · Thành thị
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
50 Chs

C22: Evangeline

It's been a while since I got secured in a hug where I felt the person's warm heart beating. Not to mention, venting THAT way, and even if we hardly know each other, he offered a shoulder (which I cannot reach, because he's like, around 6-foot tall). He must've said that he found me scary, but it's not fear that I sensed when I heard his heartbeats, but rather, worry. I can be wrong, but pity is probably included. Regardless of the reason, the freedom from the pain that I've been suppressing is almost gone, and he's a lifesaver. I wish I could tell him how much that means to me, but that'll be awkward.

He may not completely help me to move on, but my heart seems to be free from rage and hatred.

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The sun started to sink towards the horizon, painting the sky outside with the colors of the sunset. I held the mug between my hands tightly, and the heat of my coffee was felt in my hands, making it warm. Being in the house's balcony sure is calming because it gives me the time to reflect, especially now, because there are lots of things to process. Lance has been visiting me for the past two nights since I got here, and since I have no idea if he's coming over to check up on me, I better prepare some dinner for two. What if for three? Who knows? He can be hungry after working for an entire day.

An hour later, I finally finished cooking something – a tray of lasagna topped with melted cheese and some bell peppers and parsley. Knowing that Lance is the restaurant's head chef, he may be having high standards when it comes to dishes. I wonder if this will suit his tastes. Well, it's not like he's coming. If not, I can always reheat this lasagna for myself.

Meanwhile, as I eat, the grandfather's clock on the wall rang, its hands pointing to 9 pm. It feels like yesterday when I first saw a grandfather's clock and freaked out when I hear it chime. I was a kid back then, when I ran to dad while crying, saying that the ghost is coming. In horror movies, creepy sounds are played when the ghost is coming, but for some reason when I was a kid, the sound coming from it is something that creeps me out. Unexpectedly, as I reminisce about my childhood days, the doorbell rang.

I hurriedly ran to reach for the gate, and as I pulled the gate open, a familiar woman stood before me, her eyes widened, and her hands covered her mouth as she sees me. We both screamed and grabbed each other for a hug as if we're someone who hasn't seen each other for years. My heart stirred in joy, partly wondering if everything's real. As I hug her, Lance stands before me, with a small smile, his eyes saying, there, your best friend is here, enjoy.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE REAL!" Megan held my shoulders and shook me back and forth until part of me feels dizzy.

"Keep doing that and I'll fire you," I responded, though playfully, and she stopped.

"Wait," Lance pointed his index finger to us, his eyes narrowed. Megan turned back to face him as Lance continuously analyze what's with us. "What's with the 'I can't believe you're real?' You two talk as if it's your first time seeing each other."

"Which is exactly the case," I assured, and Lance let out a short, soft laugh. "We met each other online and became best friends. You have no idea how happy I am that you brought her here." I looked at Megan, and she did the same. "Let me guess … he didn't tell you that you'll be here, correct?"

"Yeah. He said that I should come with him without saying where we're going. Then when I saw that we're going to an unfamiliar place, I was thinking of jumping out of the car," she chuckled, and Lance rolled his eyes.

"You're making me sound like I'm a kidnapper. Just so you know, I'm not interested in you. I just … thought that Eve – I mean, you two, would be happy when you see each other." Lance flashed a warm smile, warm enough to make a person's heart melt.

"You wanted to make Eve happy? Gosh, Lance, I can't believe I'll see you smile again! Keep it up!" Megan giggled, clasping her hands together.

The smile on Lance's face faded, and he breathed out, ignoring Megan's tease.

"Let's go inside. I prepared some food that'll be enough for the three of us. I was just eating dinner."

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Lance sat down on the high chair next to the bar as Megan prepare the dishes, and I reheat the lasagna. With some distance from the bar to the kitchen, Megan called my attention with her elbows, and spoke with a low voice, close to a whisper.

"You know what? Lance isn't this nice in our workplace. He's always serious and cold, and never smiles." she said while cutting the lasagna.

"You can't be serious. He's been nice to me since I first met him. He smiles awkwardly sometimes, but not hiding it. It's quite natural."

"And what's with that tongue-slipping moment where he wanted to make you happy but changed it to 'us' instead?"

"I see where he's coming from, Meg. He witnessed how emotional I was ever since I got here, so perhaps he feels bad about it and wanted to help. He wants to, actually. I vented on him last night. Vent, like, really vent. I shouted at him. I'll tell you the details soon, when he's not around, okay?"

Megan nodded and we brought the plates and lasagna to the dinner table. Lance left the bar and sat next to the table across Megan, while I'm the one at the center, which makes me feel like I'm the head of the family – dad's seat.

"So, do the honors. Feel free to eat as much as you like … while stocks last." I began, breaking the silence. Megan happily took a rectangle portion, which is good, because I don't see that she's shy. Lance did the same, his slice bigger than Meg's.

"I don't know if that'll fit your standards. Knowing you're the head chef, you might have high standards on food," Lance didn't look at me, but cut a portion of the lasagna and put it into his mouth. He nodded in approval as he chews, and looked at me after he swallows.

"It's great, actually. You could use some more cheese, though. Other than that, it's great." He critiqued.

"Well, we heard the chef. I'll improve that. Noted," I replied, and all of us continued eating. "Let me add, Lance – I'm truly grateful that you brought Megan here. After what happened to me recently, I truly appreciate the company of some people, especially my best buddy. You see, many years ago, when my first boyfriend broke up with me, I created a Facebook support group, and I called it 'Home for the brokenhearted girls.' There are thousands of girls who joined the group, and one of those is Megan. We talked about the guys who broke our hearts, until we decided to talk about our lives behind those dramas, until we get to know each other well. That's why this meeting is a dream come true, thanks to you."

Lance smiled bit, nodding. "You're welcome. All I can say is, you guys are crazy. It's my first time to witness people who met online and acted the way you did. Seems like meeting people online can be interesting."

"You haven't met anyone online?" Megan asked, her eyebrow raised.

"I don't use social media. Call it out of fashion, but I only go for email and text. I have personal reasons, which I'd rather not discuss." It may be a negative judgment, but hearing those words from Lance gives me the idea that it's like he's hiding something … something about his identity. That, or he experienced a serious problem with social media sites that gave him the trauma.

"That spares you from cyberbullying. I experienced that a few years back, since …" Megan looked down, her level of energy dropping to zero. "I'd rather not discuss the details. Long story short, cyberbullying is something that I experienced and that's that." I remember those days when Megan told me the story, where she was called names for being fat when she was in high school, and that gave her the motivation to lose weight, making her hit the gym and ta-da! There's the body fit for modeling. Those people can now drool when they see the new Megan that they used to tease.

"Oh, that reminds me. Eve, Arthur and Vincent invited me to their birthday party. The theme is blue and red, since blue is Arthur's favorite color, while Vincent's favorite is red. I'd like to ask for a favor. I need to borrow a blue gown, and since you're a fashion freak, maybe you have ideas on how to make my outfit great." That means, my gift for her that I bought back in North Carolina is perfect.

I left my seat and hurriedly went to my room, rummaged my baggage and found my gift for Megan. I ran back downstairs and gave her the gift, which surprised her, because there's no specific occasion.

"I really bought that as a gift for you, and I guess that'll suit your outfit for that night. I don't have any blue gowns here, and that means, we're going to hit the malls! We should go shop tomorrow after your class. Now, unwrap that gift. I'm really thrilled to see you have that." I giggled, and Megan shyly unwrapped the gift, removing each tape, without tearing the wrapper.

That's so gentle of her.

"Wow! This is so beautiful!" she stood up in surprise, one of her hands covering her mouth. "Shocks, Eve! This is so perfect! Thank you!"

"Wear it already, let's see how it looks." I said, but since Megan was too shocked, I decided to take it from her and put the silver-plated crystal headband on her head.

"That … definitely looks great on you," Lance commented.

"I agree. It would be so much better if we're going to do your hair. Then wear some jewelries. We're going to shop for those tomorrow." The thought of shopping made my heart spin in joy, because doing my hobby with my best friend would sure be fun. As someone who's proud of being a fashionista, sharing her my thoughts on how to dress up would be an honor.

"Aw, you two. Don't make me blush! But Eve, thanks. I really am excited to go shopping with you. I still can't believe all of these things."

"Very well, then we'll see each other tomorrow and shop until we drop!"