@somberxsister
“You and your brothers run an incredible hotel,” Feigning surprise, she glanced over at him, her eyes wide. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have seemed to have used the plural form. Brother. I apologize.” She was unable to stop herself from the purposeful slip-up. It was far too enticing.
It wasn’t that she wanted a confession. She simply wanted to push some figurative buttons, as she had for so many years of her life, unaware of how it only showed how dangerously close she was to being the sort of person who started fires.
She let the key to her room roll between her fingers slightly as she glanced towards the door. It would be her dwellings for the foreseeable future. At least until she could figure out which side of the Schism she belonged to. As she went to turn the key in the lock, she nodded slightly before giving him another look, her lips tugged up into a smile. “I’ll ask for you.” She reassured him. Even if she was crazy and this was Ernest, or even Frank, the brother next to her was by far her favorite.
Dewey watched her curiously, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. She had indeed said brothers, and while three was the lucky number when it came to VFD siblings, and rumors of his existence abounded - some had even met him outright - Kit Snicket should not have.
Well, she had, but only under pretense. It seemed she’d caught on to something, and now there was no help for it but to see if he could learn just how much she knew, and if there was any risk in her telling. For his secret to get out, after so many years of careful cultivation and only revealing himself to the most trustworthy members of the organization, could spell disaster.
“On second thought. May I come in? I won’t be long, but I’d like to check out the ventilation system in that room. We’ve had suspicious entries as of late.” Not quite true, but it would be an excuse to perhaps keep her engaged.
Kit knew it was a dangerous assumption to make. The fabled third brother wasn’t real. He was nothing but a myth or a legend, as if he were some character out of a book meant for small children who did not yet grasp cold realities of the world. But yet, here she was. Perhaps she had chosen the wrong side of the Schism.
There was a part of her that wished they’d leave it at that. That she’d open her door and lock it behind her, alone at last in the solitude of her philosophical room. When she returned downstairs, she was certain she would interact with Frank or Ernest. A bizarrely calm sense of excitement went through her as he insisted he investigate inside of her room.
As the door creaked open, she glanced back at him, her eyes shining curiously. “By all means, do come in. I certainly don’t need any hideaways living in my ventilation.” She raised her brow before stepping inside, making sure to hold the door open for him as she did.
