"Mouse," my mother said, brushing my blonde waves out of my eyes. "Mighty, mighty Mouse."

Her nose was red, like her eyes. Her hair was unbrushed, her own tight golden curls tied loosely behind her head. She coughed, letting me go abruptly.

"Mama," I asked. I was a child, no older than six. "Are you ok?"

My mother hummed in response, walking into the kitchen. The floor was covered in trash which she stepped around. She began to fiddle with a small plastic bag on the countertop.

Papa was gone. I don't know where he went. Sometimes he'd just... disappear for a little while.

I walked to her side, seeing the familiar white powder she was pouring onto the counter.

"Go away Mouse," my mother said suddenly, pushing me away. "Now."

"But mama-"

"Mouse!" my mother said, her voice scary. I stopped speaking, looking at her moon-eyed. I tried to find my mother in her gaze but she was no longer there.

She grabbed my arm, giving me a firm slap on my soft skin. I let out a tearful whimper in surprise, trying to escape her grip.

"Listen when I speak to you," my mother said, glaring at me. "Now go."

And so I went.

I woke up with a thin sheen of sweat on my skin and my loose curls stuck to the back of my neck. My throat tightened as I kicked the covers off of me, my fingers twisting through my hair. My dreams were sometimes closer to bitter memories.

I hung my legs over the side of the bed as I rubbed my face, taking deep breaths to relieve my racing heart. The room blurred as I took in its darkness. Two large windows sat directly behind the bed frame, allowing in a blanket of moonlight from the sky above. Reaching for my wire-framed glasses, I slid them onto my face and exhaled.

My heart had calmed, but I was now desperately hot. The October air still had a bite of heat to it. Sliding out of the bed, I placed my feet firmly onto the ground and stood. A small bedside clock read the time: 1:32am. I had fallen asleep just after midnight, my homework still stacked in a pile on the dresser. My sleep hadn't been as fruitful as I was hoping it would be.

I crossed the floor carefully, opening the door so that I could peek out at the hall. It was quiet and dark, the only lights being the two burnished brass sconces which glowed a dim yellow. I followed the hallway to the end, keeping my steps light, and listened for movement. Melody's room was completely silent and so I continued to the stairs.

The downstairs felt smaller in the dark. I kept to what little light there was– a few more sconces and lamps lit my path to the kitchen. The windows allowed in a small amount of moonlight, which I appreciated. I left the kitchen lights out as I crossed the marbled kitchen floors, my eyes scanning the glass cabinets to find the glasses.

Bingo, I thought as I spotted a row of glasses. I stood on my tiptoes to reach them, pulling out the closest one my fingertips could feel, and I let it fall into my hands as I leaned back on my heels. My hummed in pride, shutting the cabinet gently. I filled the glass up with water from the fridge, half-way out of impatience, and then I lifted the glass to my lips

One... two... three sips coated my tongue and throat, immediately quenching my thirst. I had nearly forgotten the heat; the icy water was making it less of a burden.

I had just lifted the glass to my lips once again when there was a loud, angry interruption.

"Who the fuck are you?"

For the second time in one night my chest grew tight as shock overcame me. With one hand I reached for my chest, while the other loosened. As a result, the glass chalice fell to the wayside, colliding with the marble in one sweeping movie. I turned sharply, my eyes scanning the room for only a second before I found him.

He was undoubtedly the most intimidating person I had come across in the house. He towered in the doorway, even given its size. He looked clean and well-kept, with trimmed hair and a close shaved beard. Out of everything, it was his eyes which created the elusion. They pierced through the dimly lit room, and even in the vale of darkness I could see the glare he was drilling into me.

I didn't mean to step away from him, but it was unconscious as I took him in fully. My foot connected with the floor, directly into shards of glass. I yelped in pain, reaching out for something to steady me as the glass became embedded in my skin.

The man reached to the wall on his left, flipping up one of the lightswitches until the room was lit. I blinked away tears as I lifted my foot, settling back into my original spot.

"Who are you?" he asked again, capturing my attention.

I looked at him, my eyes filled with tears that were on the brink of being shed, as I tried to calm my now racing heart. He watched me carefully, his eyes scanning my foot for a brief moment before they returned to my face.

"Why are you here? Are you Melody's friend?" he asked, taking a step towards me.

The ball in my stomach grew as I watched him come forward. I nodded enthusiastically, stopping myself from cowering in front of him.

"What's your name?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me. "Melody didn't tell me about any friends visiting."

I swallowed, my hands balling into fists as I tried to think of how to tell him what I needed to say. I looked around the kitchen, as though a little mouse would suddenly pop out.

"Well?" he asked, his patience obviously thin.

I looked back at him, frowning as I thought. I scanned again, wondering about if there was a pad of paper around, but instead I came to a separate conclusion. My pajama shorts, which the man was kindly not looking at, depicted tiny gray mice.

A grin crossed my lips as I looked at him, my hand lifting to motion for his gaze. I then drew it to my shorts, pointing to one of the mice. I tapped on it a few times, watching him to see if he understood.

"What, a rat?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

I dropped my smile, giving him an exasperated look, before I shook it off and pointed again. I waved my hands around, hoping he would get the point and keep trying.

He kept his eyes on my thigh, staring at the picture, before it suddenly came to him. "A mouse?"

I smiled again, nodding slowly as I gave him a thumbs up.

"That's your name? Mouse?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Mouse," I signed to him, nodding in confirmation. He watched my movements closely, taking a deep breath.

"Are you deaf?"

A quick head shake answered his question. He contemplated it again, and then responded once more. "Mute?"

"Bingo!" I signed, tapping on my nose to get it across. He nodded slowly, taking me in once more.

"I'm sorry... Mouse. I didn't mean to scare you," he said, stepping towards me again. "You're all cut up."

I looked down at my foot, blood dripping down onto the white and black marble tiles. I kept it hovering above the ground, staying as still as possible so I didn't accidentally stand on it.

The man crossed the floor, kicking away shards of glass with his dress shoes. It wasn't very helpful, small pieces still littered the floor.

He sighed, looking from my foot to the kitchen sink. "Here, I'll get you away from the glass and then I can take a look at your foot. Just give me your arm."

I reached out for him, letting him slide his shoulder under my arm. His arm snaked around my torso, hugging me without warning. In one swoop his other arm went under my knees, and he lifted me up.

I grabbed his shoulders, hugging them as I looked at the floor below. My surprise was short lived as I was quickly placed onto the center island counter, next to the sink.

"One second," he said quickly, stepping away. "I'll be back in a minute."

He left out of the other kitchen door, into the hallway. He was gone for a few moments, and I watched as more of my blood fell onto the white floor. I waited for him patiently, grimacing at the mess I was making.

Finally he arrived back at my side, a red emergency kit in his hands.

"It's been a while since I've done first aid but I'm sure I can manage– here can you lift your foot into the sink?"

I followed his instructions, allowing him to guide my foot once it was in the sink till it was turned with the wound facing the faucet.

"It's not great," he said quietly, turning on the sink. "You may need stitches."

I swallowed nervously as he moved my foot towards the water. Pain caused me to jolt as the water glided over my cuts, the water turning a slight red as it entered the basin.

"I'm going to get the glass out as best I can and then I'll bandage your foot, if that's alright?" he asked, letting go of my foot so that he could walk to the other sink. He didn't look to see my response as he began to scrub his hands with soap. I continued to wash away what glass I could while he did that, glancing at him every few seconds as I waited for his return.

He came back and opened up the first aid kit, looking through it until he found a pair of tweezers. He laid them on a paper towel, and then he pulled his phone out, turning the light on.

"Alright, just stay still for me," he said, keeping the phone trained on my foot as he got closer.

He worked diligently, his body pressed nearly against mine as he worked on getting the tiny pieces of glass out of my skin. The one that really hurt was the big one, but he kept that in longer to avoid more blood coating the other glass. I tried to keep my breaths even as he worked, but every time his shoulder brushed my chest a shock of electricity ignited inside of me.

I hadn't ever had a man so close. Certainly not one I didn't know the name of. Never one so breathtakingly handsome. It made my stomach turn from nerves.

We stayed like that for nearly half an hour as he picked and prodded at my foot. Each piece of glass discarded to the side freed me of a little bit of pain, however it wasn't till the larger piece that I began to panic. For the most part I had been confident he wouldn't hurt me. He had put on a pair of reading glasses, which framed his face cutely, and had a serious look in his eyes the entire time. He moved like he knew exactly what he was doing, until he was to do the last piece.

"This'll probably hurt like a bitch kid," he said, throwing out the childish nickname unconsciously. I didn't have time to dwell on it as he grabbed the big piece of glass.

He pulled it without warning, and I let out a small cry, my hand reaching for his arm as soon as he did it. My foot began to bleed again, a pool of blood forming in the puddle of water at the sinks bottom.

He didn't say anything as he let the glass fall, not brushing off my tight grip. I followed his gaze, looking at the bloody, but clean foot.

"Good," he said, scanning the foot closely. "It's all out I think. That big piece was really in there, but I'm thinking it will be okay without stitches as long as you don't put a lot of pressure on it and you let it heal."

I let go of his arm, blinking away tears as I nodded. He lifted his gaze to mine, looking over his brown frames, and he gave me a small smile.

"Last part, then we're done."

The last part seemed relatively simple. He first held a bandage to the big cut to stop the blood from flowing. We stayed like that until the blood began to slow, and then he moved to finish bandaging it. He used butterfly bandages to pull together my larger cut after disinfecting the area with a mild amount of soap. My guilt grew as I watched him blink away sleepiness. Though I was feeling tired, I couldn't imagine having to take care of someone else at such a late hour. My job of sitting and waiting was boring, but watching him kept me well occupied.

The last part was the bandages. He did a few white gauze pads on the base of my foot, over the large cut, and then he wrapped my foot with a tan bandage, covering my foot in tight spirals until the very end. A bit of tape and he finished with an exhausted sigh.

We both stared at the bandaged foot in silence, wordlessly taking in the moment. I lifted my eyes, watching him anxiously. After a moment he lifted his eyes as well, catching my gaze.

"Here I am, doing all of this, and I didn't introduce myself," he said in a low voice, a slight upturn to the corners of his lips. "I'm Melody's uncle... My name is Adonis."

Uncle A.

I blushed lightly at his eyes. They were a brilliant color of green, so warm even under the golden kitchen light. I smiled in return, my hands forming fists as we stared at each other.

Adonis... the lover of Aphrodite. The picture of male beauty.

He certainly fit the part. Tufts of his dark brown hair had fallen out of their cleanly kept places and into his eyes. He stood up straighter, running a hand through his hair as he stepped to the side.

"I guess you're spending the night then?" he asked, watching for a response. I nodded and waited for his next question.

He sighed instead, walking over to the other sink to wash his hands again. "Melody has a tendency to break rules– I told her that if she ever had people over she needed to tell me first. Had she told me I wouldn't have scared you half to death."

I bit my lip as my eyes followed his movement. Even from the back he looked just as good.

"It's getting late, let me help you to your room. I'll carry you up, if that's ok? It'll be faster."

He dried his hands and turned towards me. I perked up immediately, having relaxed while watching him. Realizing he had asked a question, I nodded, and he crossed the floor to stand by my side immediately.

He gathered me in his arms again, easily hoisting me up until I could grab onto his shoulders again.

"So afraid you'll fall," he said, seemingly to himself. "I'll hold on tight."

I looked back at the bloody floor, but we were already on our way out.

"Don't worry about that," he said as he walked. "I'll clean it up."

I felt guilty once again, but I buried it deep inside me as we climbed the stairs. True to his word he kept me held tight to his body, his fingertips digging the back of my thigh as we made it to the second floor.

"Which room?" he asked, and I removed my left hand to point to the end of the hallway.

"Annie must like you if she puts you in the Gable room," he said, as if that meant anything to me. "It's my favorite guest room."

We were at the door within 10 seconds, and within another 10 I was being placed on the soft mattress. Adonis moved the covers back to give room for my legs, and then handed them off to me after I lifted both feet into the space.

Suddenly something occurred to him and he stepped back, holding up a finger. "I'll be right back, give me one second."

He was out of the door in two strides, and gone for a little bit. I watched the door, my eyes beginning to shut as I tried to stay awake.

It took a minute but he finally returned, two things in his hands.

"Water," he explained as he placed the bottle on the bedside table. "And Ibuprofen. I'd take one now so the pain doesn't wake you up while you sleep, and again when you wake up."

I looked at the bottles with surprise. He had already done more than enough, and yet he continued to surprise me. It wasn't a grand gesture, but between Melody's kindness and his the day was feeling less like a total loss.

I looked at him as soon as he was done, smiling again. Lifting my left hand, I motioned for him to wait as I signed one last thing.

"Thank you," I signed, mouthing the words as I did so.

He watched me, and then nodded in discomfort, clearing his throat. "No problem... Mouse. I hope you sleep well."

Just like that he was gone, and I was left alone again. Unlike the earlier feeling of abandonment, I felt a new set of emotions that were not familiar to me. I settled into the feeling of hushed anxiety, somehow coupled with admiration and fear. Attraction too, more than I wanted to admit.

Adonis. A man completely off limits, who called me kid. A man who cussed bitterly and yet who's touch was gentle and restrained.

A man who would end up turning my life upside down.