FOUR: Lingering Thoughts

IT WAS AN hour later that the guests had left the Cooper's residence. Cornelia was anxious to speak to her father about them, or more precisely about him. "Lucien." His name left her lips in a breathy, dreamy whisper. A long sigh left her as she stirred the sauce she had made for the pasta.

She was in the kitchen making dinner, the perfect chance to speak to Jerry and find everything she needed about them. She made the table, and Jerry joined her later. "So, they're the newcomers?" She tried to sound nonchalant as she asked.

"Yeah, and there's more to come." Jerry said absently, his full attention on his plate. "Mr. Amarok said they were quite the big family, all adopted but they have some serious bond as it seems."

Cornelia moved her pasta around the plate a bit, "And what of the Hamilton Mansion?"

"It was sorted with the Mayor, apparently her late husband had made some sort of a verbal agreement but nothing solid."

She only hummed, "They must be loaded. I mean to have mansion money like that."

Jerry only shrugged, and Cornelia wanted to push it a bit further, but she knew she shouldn't. She had everything she needed to know, from Jerry at least. According to Jessica, they were staying at the motel her family owned. The Crawford Motel.

Why am I so obsessed all of a sudden? She asked herself, feeling confused at her own behavior.

That night Cornelia went to bed, but he was still on her mind, he was the last thing she thought about right before she drifted into deep sleep. When she woke up again, it was around 4.00 in the morning.

She had a dream.

However, unlike those she had been having, that one was more tender. Like always, she got up and went to her desk. She got her diary out and decided to write what she had seen in that dream.

Dear Diary,

I've heard of postcoital bliss, yet I've never experienced it. At least not in real life. The dream started as they usually would, he was on top of me, doing sinful things to my body and bringing waves upon waves of pleasure.

But in this dream something changed.

It wasn't just sex, it wasn't all that hardcore fucking my brains out. No. It didn't feel that way.

There was something so tender about it, like I mattered to that man in my dream. It was almost like he loved me. Could that be the difference between making love and just fucking?

He held me afterwards, after we both reached our own ecstasies, his arms were wrapped around my naked body, and he whispered words of love to me. He kissed every inch of my body, and I felt like I was on cloud nine.

This time I didn't just wake up with an ache between my legs, my heart hurt too; it yearned for the kind of love that I had seen.

I hate this.

When the pain was only in my core, hoping for the release of all that pent-up desire, it was easy. My fingers did the job.

But how do you cure the yearning of the heart?

Cornelia closed her diary and let out a long sigh. She couldn't remember the last time she had a good night's sleep. Another sigh left her mouth and her mind drifted back to her dream, trying to remember the fine details of it.

His face…

She tried hard to recall how he looked like, but somehow the first resemblance she gave the man of her dreams was Lucien Amarok.

They both share the same brown eyes, the same beard, and there was an uncanny similarity in their voices.

Her head dropped to the desk and a loud groan left her mouth. "I'm just going crazy."

When it was time to head to school, Cornelia decided that she would try to drop the whole Amarok situation out of her mind. She would focus on her school work and her friends.

There's no chance for us anyway. He looks like he's in his mid twenties, and I'm the most obvious jailbait ever. And even if the age gap wasn't a thing, he would never regard me in that way.

She tried to tell herself, to convince herself that staying away was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

The universe seemed to be against her plan though, because the second Abigail saw her, she began talking about the new folks in town. They were walking towards Cornelia's locker and Abigail hadn't shut up about them.

"He's like some businessman, and he's got businesses everywhere. He decided that he needed some time out from the hectic life, and to connect with his family more so he came here."

Cornelia closed her locker, despite telling herself that she shouldn't be interested, her curiosity took over, "But why here? People don't just move to Formid Root."

"Maybe his friendship with Adam Hamilton played a part in it." Abigail retorted with an easy shrug.

Adam Hamilton was the youngest son of the Hamilton family, and according to what Jerry had told her he was quite a recluse.

"So, are they still staying at The Crawford's?"

Abigail nodded her head, "Yeah, they said the mansion needed some renovations, so they're still working on that."

Cornelia only hummed, then they headed to their English AP class. She kept one thought in her mind, it was playing over and over again.

Don't think about him.

However, no matter what she did, and for the entire day, his face would just pop up in her mind. Then she'd conjure some imaginary situations and put the two of them. She would imagine a world where he was the one interested in her.

By the end of the school day, Cornelia was simply done. Her head hurt, fighting herself, a war between what she wanted to do, and the right thing to do. It was terrible; it must be the worst fight a human could go through.

"Lia, something is wrong with you." Abigail noted with a frown.

Cornelia plastered a smile, "No, everything is fine."

Abigail didn't look convinced, but she didn't push it. "Let's walk home then."

"Waiting for dad, he's going to pass by."

Cornelia lied right through her teeth, she breathed a sigh of relief when Abigail left, seemingly believing her. Cornelia had a plan, and it included finding Lucien and somehow getting to know him.

Puzzles are only interesting until we solve them. She told herself.