Page 41 of Ladybirds

How to break a curse.

Sara closes her eyes, mouth dry, as she waits for the inevitable.

“Ah... I see.” She refuses to look at him, but she senses him shift. Leaning against her desk, his stare is uncomfortably focused on her face. “Dare I bother asking?”

Sara glances at him before she can remind herself to resist. His eyes are dark—knowing—his left brow quirking towards his hairline. She tears her gaze away, chewing on her bottom lip and fidgeting in her seat. Her name escapes him, a breathy admonishment, and she gives up on ignoring him.

She pulls the laptop closer and opens a word document. The library isn’t all that busy, but it’s quiet enough for her to be wary of speaking out loud. Her finger taps against two of the keys.

‘No.’

The corners of his mouth curling into a sardonic half-smile. “Cheeky.” His fingers drum, obnoxiously silent, against the edge of the desk. “As... flattering as your concern is, you’re wasting your time.”

She frowns. ‘How do you know?’

He gives her question only the briefest of glances before shaking his head, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “Honestly, Princess. Do you think I never looked?”

‘How?’

He rolls his eyes. “Little miss expert now, are we? Have you considered, perhaps, that my time is limitless?” He gestures, flippantly, to her screen. “What you’re reading is second hand information that I’ve already collected straight from the source.”

She flushes, typing, ‘Have you considered, perhaps, not being an ass?’

His grin dimples. “Only on very rare occasions.” Standing, he adjusts the collar of his overcoat. “Now that we have that sorted, I do believe it’s time to toddle on home. I have it on good authority that someone’s been putting off their reading assignment. Again.”

Another day she may have scolded him for spying on her classes, but today she finds herself nodding instead. Silently, she closes her laptop and slides it into her bag, before stacking the books she pulled and depositing them on the designated library cart.

During the walk home, her mind buzzes with questions—her eyes flitting to him between each thought. There is so much she doesn’t understand, but she wants to. Somewhere in the last few weeks, Seth has become less of a burden and more of a—

She can’t bring herself to finish the thought.

Chewing her bottom lip, she stifles the questions burning at the tip of her tongue until the exact moment she closes her apartment door behind them. “Do—” She swallows thickly, a sour attempt to sound confident. Ansel meows at her feet, rubbing himself against her ankles. “Do you know why?”

Seth scoffs, collapsing in what is slowly (but surely) becoming his chair. “Why?” He makes a motion with his hand—his eyes staring unseeingly up at her ceiling—and Sara realizes her folly.

“Why you were cursed,” she elaborates.

Something in his expression shifts. Ansel, seeming to realize that he isn’t going to be immediately fed, abandons her to rub his face against Seth’s draped hand. His fingers curl, scratching against the cat’s cheek, until a rumbling purr breaks the silence. “I refused to marry.”

“Oh.” That definitely wasn’t one of the (many) answers she had envisioned on their walk home. Tentatively, she sits on the couch across from him, fingers drumming on her knees. “That... doesn’t really seem like a good reason to curse someone.”

He mutters something incomprehensible under his breath.

“What?”

“She was with child,” he grumbles, still refusing to meet her eye.

Her thoughts grind to a halt, face paling. “You had a kid?!” she blurts.

He goes silent for so long, she wonders if he will refuse to answer. “No. No, she—she lost it.” His exhale is a shaky, bitter laugh—tainted with self loathing. “She lost it, and my first reaction was to uncork a bottle and celebrate. Thank the universe for letting me off the hook.” His eyes meet hers, dark in ways Sara can’t name. “My miracle, her curse. Do you understand now?”

My miracle, her curse.

The words echo in her ears; a cacophony of painful understanding. Her stomach sours, bile rising in her throat until she can nearly taste the acid on her tongue. “That’s why there’s a price,” she murmurs, barely audible over the rushing in her ears.

Seth’s jaw clenches. “Yes.”

She hugs her knees to her chest, resting her chin there. “That... that was pretty terrible of you.”

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