I wanted to ask about the frigid air I felt between her and my mother, and why she had left so abruptly and without even a hello to my aunt, but I didn’t think it wise to pry into a sensitive issue so soon.
Aunt Freya’s hand went to the insufficiently sized pocket of her jeans and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen twice, checking the time.
“I’m gonna head downstairs and get some food brewing in my cauldron.” She said, straightening up from where she was leaning against the wall.
“I promise I won’t slip any love potions into the brew. I may be a lonely old witch, but I’d never take advantage of a cute adventurer like yourself.”
I had grown accustomed to being complimented by her at this point, and the playful banter only made me smile instead of blushing furiously.
“It’s good see a witch breaking the stereotype! I’d be honored to dine in your hovel.” I said, playing along.
“Good! Once you’re finished settling in, come on down.” Still grinning, but now it had that sly, teasing element to it, and a fire flickered behind her eyes.
“But you might want to leave those wandering eyes up here amongst your belongings. You wouldn’t want to tempt the hag into dastardly schemes.” She winked and disappeared through the door.
I felt frozen to the spot. Fucking up the first impressions was a habit of mine, but this one felt extra bad. Sure, she didn’t seem awfully upset by it, but some people were good at keeping that friendly vibe up, even when they weren’t feeling all to kind within themselves.
But… I was thinking about her calling me cute throughout our conversation. There’s no way she could be upset with me and still complimenting me, right? Maybe she was mocking me? Some people had called me cute before but I sure didn’t see it. Maybe she didn’t see it either, and was sensing my insecurity and using it to… to what? Just to fuck with me? That seemed a little too conniving even for me to believe.
I decided to take her words and expressions at face value and shut my irrational, insecure thoughts up for now. So, she noticed me staring and tactfully reprimanded me without straining relations. That was awfully understanding of her. I should just get my shit together and be respectful.
After a few minutes to gather my thoughts and shed the embarrassment I was feeling, I joined her in the kitchen to share our first meal together.
Over the course of the next week, my comfort around my aunt fluctuated. Our conversations were warm and playful, but I was still plagued with my ‘wandering eyes’ as she had called them. I was able to minimize their appearances by masturbating each and every night, but my thoughts were slowly but surely turning towards Aunt Freya’s body as I neared and achieved orgasm. My shame grew, and I was worried it was becoming apparent in my expressions.
Through it all, she kept calling me a cutie, and I kept trying to see it in the mirror. From certain angles I felt like I actually had some appealing features, but in others I felt like the ugliest creature to plague the earth with its presence. Still, her words were really affecting me, and I felt myself allowing some confidence to flow through me.