"be careful what you wish for"

━━━━━━━━ ꧁ ♡ ꧂ ━━━━━━━━

When Y/N came to that morning, a red rose was perched beside her bed. Thinking that her husband might've gotten it for her, she giggled, taking the rose by its trimmed stem and took a whiff. It smelled fresh with an underlying scent of vanilla and peppermint that went surprisingly well together. She didn't think much about it, except for the thought that Aidan must've gotten this for her.

Slipping on her fuzzy robe, she headed towards the kitchen to whip up some breakfast.

━━━━━━━━ ꧁ ♡ ꧂ ━━━━━━━━

As it turns out, her husband had left earlier than she expected without as much as a goodbye. Not even leaving a note on the kitchen table for her to know.

Sighing, the woman placed the clean dishes in the cupboard and walked towards her daughter who was in the drawing room.

"Feli, Mummy's going out to greet the neighbors. Do you want to come with me?"

Felicia, who was busy playing with her dolls and making up stories for them- looked up from her seat on the rust-colored carpet,

"No, Mum. I'm busy pouring Angelina her cup of tea, you see?" She declared loudly, as if she was speaking out in front of a large audience, and took a teapot filled halfway with water. Felicia proceeded to fill in her doll's teacups. Y/N smiled at the adorable display.

"I'm sure Angelina would like a biscuit too, luvvie," she added playfully, setting toy biscuits on each of the dolls' plates before kissing the four-year old's forehead, "I will be back shortly, dear. Don't make too much of a mess, okay?"

Receiving a firm nod in reply diminished her worry, and the young wife headed out the door and moved towards the attic- where the old man and his mouse circus supposedly lived. That morning was particularly foggy and despite it being summer, she rubbed her hands to keep herself warm. Her knuckles rapped gently against the beaten-down door as she waited, waited and waited.

"Zdravstvuyte, Madam!"

Y/N nearly let out a screech when she turned behind to see a tall man wearing a ringleader costume. The top of it was open- revealing a white tank top stained with what looked suspiciously like beer.

"Y-You must be Mr. Bobinsky!" She stammered, still not over the feeling of surprise upon seeing him.

"Aye, but you can call me Mr. B. You must be the new sosedka moving into the lobby below."

"U-um yes," she hesitantly agreed even though she did not know what he had said mid-sentence, "My name is Y/N Carter-" The tapping of little feet interrupted her and the H/Cette glanced towards the direction of the sound, "What was that?"

Mr. Bobinsky brightened and he heaved, the tails of his coat fluttering in the lone breeze,

"Those were my little mice friends," he stated cheerfully, his thick mustache bobbing, "it seems they are off practicing again in their rehearsal. But they are not rehearsed enough. I tell you, I have written them songs that go 'oompah-oompah-oompah!' But they can only do 'toodle oodle' and such."

"Oh, okay then. I wish I could stay and watch them, but I must go off and greet the other neighbors, Mr. B. H-Have a good day!" She twittered, and went down the metal steps.

"Feel free to come anytime, Madam," the Russian calls back from behind her, "The mice will be happy to let you watch them practice!"

Y/N doesn't think she will. Not without Aidan at least.

She was already at the entrance of the basement next when she suddenly remembered something that made her smack her head in realization,

'Dear me, I've forgotten to give Mr. B his batch of cookies,' she thought, 'I suppose I can give it to him again tomorrow.'

No sooner than she rang the doorbell, it was answered by frenzied woofing that would've belonged to dogs no smaller than a Scottish Terrier. The door opens and a bunch of Scotti dogs came out to greet the H/Cette who laughed- petting their black fur while they busied themselves with sniffing and jumping up on her legs.

"Angus, Hamish, Bruce! Down there luvvies."

Y/N glanced up to see an elderly woman dressed in green robe. She was quite on the heavier side, red hair held back in an up-do and wore heavy makeup. The woman looked at her with kind eyes.

"They're usually not excited to see someone," she stated in a willowy voice, "Dogs are quite good at sensing the good in people."

The woman giggled, running a hand through her H/C-colored hair.

"They're adorable- oh, how rude of me! My name's Y/N Carter- from next door. I just wanted to introduce myself, being the new neighbor and all."

"A pleasure to meet you sweetheart. My name's Miss Spink, but everyone calls me April," Miss Spink smiles and received her into their quaint place warmly, reminding Y/N of the kind of sun you'd see during lazy Sunday afternoons and blanket forts on a cold winter's night.

"Come in, come in and oh- is that cookies I see?" Y/N perked up and handed her the container of butter- cookies fresh from the oven.

"Yes, these were actually for you!" The woman laughed cheerily and led her through the dimly lit walls. On the walls were black-and-white photographs of pretty women, and theater programs in frames- which Y/N could guess what they had been when they were at the golden peak of their ages.

The woman gapes at the first thing she noticed when they entered the parlor. Stuffed dogs were lined along the shelves of the upper walls. They weren't the kind you'd see in the toy shops nor the ones you'd see your children play with in tea parties. They were terriers who had once been alive with blood in their veins and air in their lungs; now they were stuffed with cotton, dressed in little angel costumes and made to be put on those shelves

Miss Spink followed her line of vision and threw in a sympathetic sigh,

"Poor departed angels. Couldn't bear to part with them, so we had them taxidermized."

The stuffed dogs' frozen eyes seem to stare at Y/N. She cleared her throat when she noticed a voluptuous woman who looked to be of April's age approached them, bearing wavy hair the color of the rings she and her husband wore on their marriage day. Her eyes were blue, lighter than any blue sky she'd seen so far.

"Who might you be, dearie?" The woman smiled and Y/N was about to open her mouth when Miss Spink beat her to it,

"This is Miss Forcible, but we call her Miriam. Miriam, this is Y/N Carter from next door. She's come to greet us, it seems. Now, sit down while Miriam makes you tea," she nods politely towards Miriam. With a twist of her skirt, the platinum blonde walks off toward the kitchen with the Scotti dogs tripping and barking about behind her. Miss Forcible comes out later with pink china cups and saucers, accompanied by a pink teapot and Garibaldi biscuits on a tray.

As she sips the jasmine tea from the pink bone china cup, the two elderly ladies had began to talk in what seems to be an argument of sorts.

"As I was saying, April dear. Isn't it too early to decide for Hamish's taxidermy? There's still life in that old dog!"

"Miriam, Hamish has been with us while we were acting for Portia and Ophelia on the boards. Neither of us is as young as we were."

"Madame Arcati," added Miss Forcible. "The nurse in Romeo. Lady Bracknell. Character parts. They can't retire you from the stage."

"Now, Miriam, we agreed," said Miss Spink. Y/N wondered if they'd forgotten she was there. They weren't making much sense in an argument compared to the comfort of an ancient armchair, the kind of argument that no one ever really wins or loses but which can go on forever, if both parties are willing.

She sipped her tea and turned in the direction of the the redhead once her name was called.

"Won't you mind me reading your tea leaves, dear?"

"Sorry?"

"Your tea leaves, love. They help me read your future."

The H/Cette passed Miss Spink her pink bone china cup. Miss Spink peered shortsightedly at the black tea leaves in the bottom.

"You're married aren't you?" With a questioning nod from Y/N, she continued,

"The tea leaves here says that in the future, you might meet a tall, dark and handsome stranger."

With a shocked gasp, she jolted up from the grey loveseat. One of the dogs yipped from its place beside her. Miss Spink hobbles over to her to show the cup, the leaves inside it forming into a dark figure and she gulps.

"No, no April," Miss Forcible tuts, grabbing the cup from her, "You're holding the cup wrong you see." Turning the cup, she shows them the leaves that formed a peculiar hand.

"There, you see the hand luvvie?" she said, "you might be in terrible danger."

The foreboding hole in the depths of her stomach deepened until it turned into the urge to hide under the bed like Y/N did when she was a scared, weak-willed child. In this situation, she chose to flee.

"I-I've forgotten that I left my daughter at home alone! I'm sorry ladies, but I must get going!"

"Cheery-bye!"

"Do come back anytime, love!"

Y/N couldn't erase that bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

A cup of tea leaves shouldn't have given her this unsettling feeling. She was supposed to be a grown-up, and a grown-up she was.

But somehow, it lingered.

━━━━━━━━ ꧁ ♡ ꧂ ━━━━━━━━