[Careful; I might Bite.] Chapter Four.Mature

                    "Do you like it?"

                    The bedroom consisted of deep purple walls, shining wooden shelves and drawers, a large bay-window and above all; an expensive looking soundsystem that I was trying not to drool over. Normally, I'm not a material kinda woman. But, for this baby? I could definately make an exception.

                    "I chose the colour." Gillian beamed at me, clinging onto my right hand. She had insisted that we take a tour of everything 'important' in the house - that included the Play Room, crammed with all entertainment known to man; the Kitchen refridgerator, covered in imaginative drawings, from top to bottem; and her own room, in all of it's pink, girly, fluffy glory.

                     "A wise choice." I chuckled, sharing a side-glance with Mrs Harfield. She absent-mindedly tucked a stray curl of hair behind her daughter's ear, smiling.

                    "Beep beep, Ladies! Heavy stuff coming through." Jay bellowed, squeezing his way through the gap between us. With an overeactive heave, he dumped my bag onto the mattress, then ran his fingers through the mop of black that sat upon his head.

                       "Ignore Jay. He's got poopie for brains." Gillian tutted.

                       "I have not!"

                       "Alright, break it up you two. I'm sure Ruby will want to settle into her room before dinner. We'll be downstairs, hun. C'mon Gill! I thought you said you were gonna help Mummy set the table!" Seline took the little girl's hand from mine, leading her down the corridor. Gillian leant back on her heels, a dangerous frown on her rosey features. It reminded me of ... well, me.

                         "Cheeky, but you get used to her." Jay laughed, sitting on the edge of my bed. I smirked, burying my hands into my jean pockets, "I think she's cute."

                        "Too cute. Underneath, lies an evil mastermind." His already deep voice creeped lower on the word 'evil'. Aw, what? No insane laughter?

                         "Me and her will get along great then." He raised an eyebrow at my comment. I dismissed it - me and my goddamn mouth.

                        "So, how long you been in care for?" The bluntness of the question was a mild shock. However, I would prefer that to people tip-toeing over the bad bits. The sympathetic looks can really rile me up. The warmth in my chest still persuaded me to be careful though.

                        "About three years. Give or take a few months." I replied, in-different to the personal subject. He nodded, almost as if in deliberation. The old me would probably have flipped him off and chucked him out by now. But, hey, I'm gonna be sharing a manor with these people. Questions are bound to pop up somewhere.

                       "Well, I welcome you to our home, come hang with me whenever you like, yadda yadda yadda." He stretched, arching his back, like a cat. Oh, come on, my bag wasn't that hard to drag up the staircase. Standing up, he sauntered towards the door, whispering one sentence before he left.

                       "The lads will love you when we get to school. Good luck, sweetie." That egotistical, son of a - wait, what? School?

                      Ah, crap.


The End

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