found on google images


Allen leveraged himself up onto the billiard table, careful to keep one foot touching the ground. he tried not to make a face at the mess of colored balls scattered across the table top. Personally, this wasn’t his favorite version of the game.

His version usually involved a lot more personal space and sharp things. Very sharp things.

“Keep your elbow down, darling,” Veronica said, touching his arm as she glided past. Her hand settled on the crook of his elbow, then dropped down to smooth over his thigh as she maintained her perfect hostess smile.

He lowered his elbow a fraction of an inch and resisted the urge to scowl at her. “Is the coffee ready or did I miss something?”

“You didn’t miss a thing,” Veronica’s smile morphed into a smirk. “And you’re really not going to hit anything like that.”

“I’m not trying to,” Allen stopped. He aimed at the nearest pocket and jabbed the cue stick awkwardly in that direction. He felt the whistle of the wind right before he saw the actual result.

The dainty scone knife was buried in the face of the panicking Gareth and all the other players had instantly drawn their weapons.

Allen rolled off the edge of the table and snatched the gun from his ankle holster. Veronica joined him on the carpet, her eyes alight with an eerie blue fire. “You could have warned me!” he hissed.

“Oh but darling, it’s glorious!” She looped one arm through his. “I know you hate playing billiards, so don’t make such a face. They can’t see us anymore anyway.

(c) Sara Harricharan

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