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Perfect

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Chapter 20: Perfect (Spencer's POV)

I was lying in bed, alone, trying to fall asleep later that same night. Delilah had the choice of sleeping here tonight, she gets that choice every night. I didn't think it was important to reiterate that and ask her. If she wanted to, she would, and it didn't feel right to ask her to anyway. 

My door burst open as it does every other night and she came running in, whining loudly. "Spencer!" She stood beside me, blocking the moonlight from the window. 

"Hmm?" I continued staring at the ceiling. 

She sat beside me, staring at me. She shook me a little. "Spencer, help." 

"What is it now?" 

"The ghosts are making things fall over again." 

"Really?" I asked sarcastically. 

"They broke the mirror." 

I blinked in confusion, turning to look at her. "What?" 

"The mirror." 

"What mirror?" 

"The vanity mirror," she gritted, rolling her eyes. "What other mirror? The vanity mirror cracked." 

My mind flashed back to the incident that happened to my mother when I was younger.  

♡♡♡

I laughed, looking over my shoulder while running down the halls as Ms. Sunny chased me, laughing softly. "You can't catch me!" I yelled over my shoulder before facing ahead, running as fast as my little feet, at the age of six, would carry me. I was running towards a dead end, I knew that very well. But I also knew my mother was in the last room, I thought I'd hide behind her. 

Ms. Sunny was catching up to me quickly and I reached the room, laughing but froze in the doorway. My smile fell instantly as my eyes widened. "Mum!" 

Ms. Sunny grabbed onto my shoulders. "Got you!" She laughed. Her laughter died down as she followed my gaze, letting out a gasp. "Mrs. Romano!" Ms. Sunny ran past me and over to my mother who was passed out on the ground, right behind her vanity chair. Ms. Sunny kneeled down, trying to wake my mother and bring her into consciousness, but my mother wasn't waking up. 

I ran over, sitting on my knees, shaking my mom's arm. "Mummy! Mum! Mum!" 

"Mrs. Romano!" 

I heard a loud crack and looked up, watching as the vanity mirror cracked on its own, spreading from a small crack that had already occurred. A single crack in the top right corner slowly made its way through the rest. The crack spread like a spider web across the mirror before it shattered loudly, making Ms. Sunny scream. 

I fell back, scooting away from it as shards of the mirror fell onto the vanity, some onto the ground, missing my mother barely by an inch. "Mum!" I yelled. 

My mum's eyes snapped open and she looked over at us, her eyes flicking to me. She sat up quickly, scrambling over to me on her knees. "Are you all right?" She brushed my hair back, her eyes scanning my face for injuries. 

"Mrs. Romano, are you okay?" 

My mother frowned in confusion, "Why wouldn't I be? I was worried about Spencer! It said—" She cut herself short, looking at me. "Are you all right?" she repeated. 

I nodded numbly. I looked over at the shattered mirror, where I could only see my reflection. Was that meant to hurt... me? 

♡♡♡

"Spencer!" 

I snapped out of my thoughts, turning to her. 

"Help me," she whined. 

My mother told me when we left the castle that weekend to stay away from shattered mirrors. Something about a threat to my life from a specific spirit here. What the fuck did I do? 

She stood up, glancing at the door. "Should I just sleep there?" 

I grabbed her hand, pulling her back onto the bed. "No." 

She blinked in surprise, staring at me. "Why not?" She tried standing back up. "I'm sure nothing will—" 

I pulled her back down. "Don't sleep there." 

She frowned again, staring at me. "But... I've slept there even after books fell. Nothing usually happens afterward," she shook her head. She stood back up. "I think I'll be fine, you don't have to—" 

I yanked her down, pulling her closer. "Don't you understand it when I say no?!" I snapped, jerking her forward. 

She jumped, getting startled and freezing in one spot. She blinked once, then twice, then thrice, staring at me. She swallowed before talking, her voice coming out small and confused, "Why are you yelling at me?" 

"Because you're not listening to me," I scolded. "I'm telling you not to sleep in that room. Why do you keep insisting otherwise?" My voice still came out loud and stern. 

"Jesus, fine," she huffed. "I won't sleep there, what's wrong with you?" 

"You don't sleep with a shattered mirror in the room, you shouldn't even be near a shattered mirror." 

"Why not?" 

Because it's a fucking message of death and bad luck. How do I explain the superstitions that my mother taught me? "You just don't. Sleep here." 

She stared at me. "Why are you acting so—" 

"Don't ask questions," I demanded. 

She put her hands on my chest, giving me a push. "Why are you being so rude? What's wrong with you?" 

"I'm just... forget it. Go to sleep." 

"I want to sleep there." She tried getting back up but I grabbed her hips, holding her down. 

"I said no." 

"And I said..." she trailed off, her eyes falling to where my fingers dug into her hips, holding her down on my lap. She blinked, her eyes coming back up. "Let me go." 

"No," I argued. 

"I won't— I— you can let—" She groaned, getting herself together. "I won't leave, let go." 

"Promise me," I smirked. 

Her cheeks flushed pink, and even in the dark with only some moonlight peeking through, it was obvious that she was flustered and feeling shy. "Yes, okay, promise! I promise!" she exclaimed, trying to throw my hands off. 

"Delilah," I sang. "That's not a promise." 

She clicked her tongue in frustration before sticking her pinky out. "I promise." 

I smiled, linking my pinky with hers and jerking her forward. She fell forward, her upper body pressed against mine, her lips only mere inches away from mine. "Hmm, you were saying?" I whispered, my eyes traveling across her face, lingering on her lips. 

"Huh?" She blinked. My eyes met hers and I saw that she too was staring at my lips before her eyes came back up to mine. She cleared her throat, "I promise." 

I nodded, humming in approval. "Fair enough." I rolled over, pulling her with me until she was lying flat on her back, right under me. I held myself up on my elbows while I had one knee between her legs, straddling her. 

She blinked, her eyes wide, surprise swirling in them. "What are you doing? I'm tired from the party, let me sleep." She tried pushing me off but I didn't budge. She stared at me, her cheeks redder than they were earlier, her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling with each breath. I started leaning and her hands that were on my chest fisted my shirt. 

I waited for her to push me off or turn her head the other way, but she did neither. She didn't protest. When I got too close for comfort, she sunk further into the pillow and I stopped, my lips inches away from hers. I chuckled, brushing her hair out of her eyes before climbing off and lying beside her. "Relax, Daisy." I turned my head to look at her. 

She did the same, staring back at me. "You panicked," she stated softly, hesitating to say it out loud. "Why?" 

I sighed, watching her carefully. "When I was little, I came here for a weekend with my mum. There was an incident with a mirror." 

She rolled onto her side, looking at me. "What do you mean?" 

"I was running around and when I got to her room, she had fainted on the floor. Ms. Sunny was here too. We were trying to wake up my mother and..." I paused, just watching her for a minute. "And the mirror cracked and then shattered." 

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"My mum jolted awake and she thought I got hurt. She didn't tell me then, I was too young. A few years later, she told me that right before she fainted, she had a thought, an instinct. She felt as though a spirit was trying to communicate. She read that message as death. She thought it was a sign that someone would die. She thought it'd be me because it was just us. She got worried. Shattered and cracked mirrors are bad luck. My mother always read them as a sign of death. I think it's true." 

"Why do you think it's true?" she whispered. 

"She's the one who saw it crack first. And three years ago she died." 

Her eyes widened and she scooted closer. "I saw that," she whined. 

"You're not going to die," I reassured, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her in. "I won't let you." 

Her breath got caught in her throat as her hand fisted my shirt. "Am I that much of a priority?" 

"Hmm," I nodded slowly. "You're perfect." 

"Perfect?" 

"Yes, perfect. The perfect wife, the perfect girl, perfect for me. Things that are so perfect should be kept safe." 

"Locked up?" she questioned. 

I shook my head slowly. "Just safe. Protected. Close." I leaned in further. 

She blinked, her eyes falling down to my lips. "That could be a very bad idea," she mumbled. 

"Why? Are you going to do something bad to me?" 

Her eyes flickered back up to mine. 

"Are you going to kill me?" I whispered. 

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Chapter 20

I'd be fucked up if you can't be right here!!!

next chapter: wife