Page 15 of Wicked Flavors

“Ow,” she complained, running her hands over the skin of her shoulders.

The straps had left deep grooves that ached. She was long overdue for new bras, but Gwendolyn didn’t want to go into a department store. Online shopping was also a hassle, as sizing wasn’t always accurate between stores. It was just as bad as sizing for jeans.

Gwendolyn removed her pants and tossed those into the wash as well. She continued to massage her poor shoulders as she walked to the bathroom along the same short wall. Inside, she found her sleeping shirt hanging from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. The material was thin, but one of the few fabric blends that didn’t make her skin angry.

The sleeping shirt brushed her thighs once Gwendolyn straightened the fabric around her body. Gwendolyn set to work on undoing her braid, pacing the small expanse of her bathroom in small circles as she went. Thoughts of Ambrosius—and histongue—continued to plague Gwendolyn despite her efforts to put the incident behind her.

You still have to see him in a week.

Gwendolyn rolled her eyes, gathering the hair that had come loose and tying it back into a sloppy bun. What she needed was to cool her temper. A quick splash of tap water would do the trick.

The faucet handles were finicky, and Gwendolyn ignored the way the entire piece moved as she turned the handle on. She gathered water into her cupped hands and brought it to her bent face. The coolness was enough to release the small tension between her shoulders, and her temperature didn’t feel quite as hot as before.

She lightly patted her face with the small towel hanging off a ring hook next to the sink. As Gwendolynbrought the towel down the side of her temple, something caught her eye in the hanging mirror.

There was something on her bottom lip, so small Gwendolyn wasn’t sure if she would have noticed it without the aid of the mirror. Her amber eyes narrowed in confusion, pressing her body against the sink and bringing her face closer. Her lips parted in surprise.

It was a heart. Not a literal one, but a tiny Valentine-like one right in the center line of her bottom lip. Gwendolyn brought her fingers to her mouth, pressing gently at the dark mark. She regretted it immediately, wincing at the sting of pain, and surprised at the vibrant spill of blood on her fingers.

“What the hell…” Gwendolyn murmured as blood dripped over her lip.

She hurriedly cleaned the small wound. Gwendolyn rarely had dry lips, so why on earth had her lip split open—

“Fuck,” she cursed before pressing the small towel to her lip.

Her body warmed considerably at the memory of Ambrosius biting her. Gwendolyn had been offended when she thought it had only been that. But, no, the asshole had bitten hard enough to drawblood. An act that made Gwendolyn furious as she dabbed delicately across her lip.

“Fucking. Awful.Men,” she cursed through gritted teeth.

The towel would have to be treated before she could wash it, but Gwendolyn couldn’t be bothered to do it now. If that entire experience had been a joke to Ambrosius—one that came at the expense of Gwendolyn’s pride—she would at least reap the rewards. She didn’t have to show up to work tomorrow until eleven in the morning, whichmeant Gwendolyn had all evening to work on the Maddie doll.

Gwendolyn dropped the ruined towel near the door as she vacated the bathroom. She pivoted to start the laundry before heading toward her prize. Despite the terrible afternoon, Gwendolyn felt excitement building in her fingertips. She had done it. Acquired the oneMiss Moxie Dollthat she had yet to customize. A rush of ideas swirled in her head, but Gwendolyn tried to hold them at bay. She needed time to examine the doll beneath her tailored outfit, to see how well the skeleton had survived with time.

She smiled at the sight of the paper bag, reaching eagerly for the doll. Ambrosius may have been a dick, but he had kept his word, and Gwendolyn was at least grateful for that. Gwendolyn placed the doll onto the kitchen table and slowly unwrapped it, mindful of all the accessories before stuffing the wrapping paper into the discarded paper bag.

It was difficult to describe the feeling of holding a dream in her hand. In some ways, Gwendolyn still couldn’t believe she was looking at her. A genuineMiss Maddie Moxie Dollon her kitchen table. Glee bubbled in her chest and Gwendolyn held the moment for a few seconds longer. When would she ever have this moment again?

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Gwendolyn smiled.

It was time to get to work.

First, Gwendolyn would have to remove each layer of clothing. She sat in one of the two chairs at her table, lifting the doll in her hands. Her fingers traced over the clothing, before deciding to start with the shoes. They were small, no bigger than her pinkie fingers, in a hot pink that made Gwendolyn’s heart sing. She loved vibrant colors, though her studio apartment didn’t reflect that. Gwendolyn hadn’t bothered decorating much, given painting meantno return on her deposit. Hanging art or photos usually left a cleaning fee, too.

The shoes came off with a small snap, an indicator that no one had removed them in quite some time. Gwendolyn moved toward the trench coat, slipping her fingers around the opening to push the material off the doll’s shoulders. She was so engrossed with the careful removal that she didn’t notice the new fuzz against her hand until it moved.

Gwendolyn jerked back, dropping the doll with a clatter. Her hands shook with disgust as her amber eyes widened. Crawling from beneath the trench coat of her doll was the fuzzy body of a spider. Gwendolyn wasn’t familiar with spider species, but she recognized some of the traits on this one. It was small, with fuzzy legs and a front facing face, and an oddly brilliant blue back. It would have been adorable, if Gwendolyn hadn’t been jump-scared by it.

She felt silly, heart racing at such a helpless thing.

“Okay,” she said with a heavy exhale, nerves still high. “Okay, okay—we—youneed to leave.”

Whether it was normal to talk to a spider wasn’t up for Gwendolyn to judge. She talked to most of her dolls on a daily basis, and it only felt polite to speak to this new guest. Gwendolyn eyed it as it crawled across her doll and she tried not to glare at it. The stowaway needed a new home, quickly.

Scurrying in her kitchen, Gwendolyn grabbed a paper towel and placed it near the spider. Naturally, the spider didn’t come closer, so much as jump halfway across her table. The movement was so sudden that Gwendolyn jumped herself, accidentally reopening the wound on her lip. Another pinch of sharp pain and blood trailed into her mouth.

“Great, just great!” she grumbled.

The spider skittered across the remaining distance of the table, and dread coursed through Gwendolyn’s veins. She couldnothave this spider running around in her apartment. Gwendolyn was already struggling with sleep, and the last thing her exhausted mind needed was to worry about eight-legged freaks running across her prone form and dying in her mouth!

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