All thoughts of looking for help abandon me when I am hired by Rainbow to be their marketing designer. The confirmation came quickly, much sooner than I had expected and all of a sudden, I am bogged down by mundane things like shopping for proper working adult clothes and setting up my bank account to get my monthly salary.

Another thing that is draining me of my time is the process of moving out. With the both of us graduating from university, Sunny and I will be leaving the apartment that we shared. To be honest, I haven’t been sleeping that many nights in it and neither has Sunny, so it is a natural decision to let go of the apartment. As expected, Sunny will be moving in with Summer while I will be moving in with Ms Pink. My vampire princess would not have it any other way and the discussion we had about it was short, to say the least. It lasted about two sentences:

“You’ll move in with me.”

“Okay.”

I don’t have much to begin with (I’m not exactly swimming in money) so it doesn’t take me long to pack everything into boxes and a company that Ms Pink hired sent their men in black uniforms to load the boxes onto their black track. I had put up a little argument with Ms Pink over the issue of hiring the movers but it had fallen flat the moment Ms Pink mentioned security. Of course it would have to be a supernaturally-affiliated moving company that Ms Pink could trust. Of course the men in black would remind me of Helene’s minions. In fact, they probably come from the same place. Or species.

The men in black speed-move all my boxes into Ms Pink’s castle, turning into black slithery blurs as they complete the job in a fraction of the time they took to move the boxes from my old apartment to their vehicle. This must be why some dark, evil super wants to overthrow the peace treaty. It must be irritating for supers to hide their super powers in the presence of humans.

Unfortunately, I don’t have super powers to speed up my unpacking so I’m still unpacking when Ms Pink walks into my room and across the wide expanse of baby blue tiles to where I am. She takes one look at me on my knees, taking my things out one at a time and says, “Stupid human.” She then proceeds to speed-unpack the boxes, dumping my books on the shelf and other belongings in areas where she thinks they belong.

Darn, where was Ms Pink when I was packing up my things . . .

“How do you arrange your books?” she asks me suddenly.

I look up from the pile of random knick knacks and blink.

“By author? By height? How?”

“Oh, uh, by height, please.”

No reply is given but I have the pleasure of seeing my books almost magically rearrange themselves by height on the shelves.

Ms Pink moves to my side and I spot her picking up a solid wooden box through my peripheral vision. She opens it with curious pink eyes and they widen when she sees its contents. I hold my breath, waiting to hear what she says.

“You kept these.”

“Yes.”

Ms Pink holds up one distorted black skull candle (the flame did it, not me) and smiles. “Stupid human.”

I resist a giggle. “I love you too, Ms Tiffany Pink.”

Radiant pink eyes turn on me and parted lips claim mine in a gasp. I sink into the kiss, loving how my words triggered this act and gradually lose my breath as she it out of me. When we finally part, there’s a feral gleam of pink in her eyes and I bite my lip, wondering if I really want to roll in the sheets with Ms Pink in the middle of my unpacking. But who am I kidding? I’m in my early twenties and my hormones are raging wild. I’m ready to roll in the sheets anytime.

However, Ms Pink seems to be contented with just a hungry, soul- kiss because she actually resumes unpacking after releasing my lips. It takes me three whole seconds before I realise she is serious about unpacking, holding the box of black skull candles and looking around the room.

“Beside my bed,” I suggest, thinking nothing of it.

“You won’t use this bed.”

I grin inwardly at the insinuation that I’ll be spending my nights in Ms Pink’s bed but I shrug with as much nonchalance as I can muster. “There will be nights when I just feel like being alone.”

“There won’t be.”

I stick my tongue out at Ms Pink. Bleah.

“You’re growing bolder and bolder. A good spanking will help you to remember the basics.”

In the spirit of thrill and adventure, I hop onto my knees on the bed and present my to Ms Pink. “Please spank me, Ms Pink. I’ve been a bad girl.”

“Incorrigible.”

Wiggling my at Ms Pink, I giggle and say, “But you like me this way. I’m your incorrigible stupid human.”

A hard smack lands on my right cheek. “Don’t be cheeky.”

“What could you possibly do to me? Hmm?”

There is no warning when Ms Pink pounces. Arms and legs and body. Everything rises into the air, hangs there for a nanosecond and comes crashing down on top of me. The only thing I have time to do is squeal. Any attempt to dodge the incoming assault is shut down. All is in vain. Ms Pink’s arms are locked around me, rolling me on top of her, then flipping me over again.

I fight back. With a mighty push, I squirm out from under Ms Pink and leap on top of her, laughing hard as I land, knees on each side of her waist. Her hair is in a mess and her eyes are laughing pink. She’s never been prettier. Leaning down, I plant my lips on hers and pull back to sit on her stomach. She follows me up and locks her legs around my waist, pulling me down for another spin.

By the time we’re done fooling around, the sheets are twisted and tangled and pillows are missing. I’m breathing heavily but Ms Pink looks ready to go for a marathon. Yes, I’m constantly reminded of the stark differences between us. It’s amazing. Unbelievable. But we make it work. Somehow.

A light smack on my left cheek is followed by Ms Pink’s reminder, “We still have work to do. Get up.”

My lips tilt into a cheeky smile. “Yes, Ms Tiffany Pink.”

X

The problem returned to my mind a few days later, after settling down in Ms Pink’s castle. However, with my life closely intertwined with Ms Pink’s, I find it hard to look for help. On top of that, I’ve been busy with work—both at Rainbow and in my room. It’s been barely a week but my room is lived in, meaning it’s in a mess. I tried. I really tried. But I do my work in my room and that means I have books, papers, favourite plushies and various other things strewn around flat surfaces like my unused bed, table and even the floor. I can’t believe I managed to mess up a room about the size of my old apartment but it happened. I have to admit it. I am a slob.

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