The Teapot Calling The Kettle Black Novels & Stories

“I was testing it. I think Alan has been—” “Testing?” he echoed. “Yes.” I held up the vial. “The powder changed color. Keegan gave it to me. Your coffee turned it black.” Levi stared. Then slowly walked to the pot. “Black,” he whispered. “It means something deadly,” I said. “Keegan said black is the worst.” He closed his eyes. Pain flickered across his face. “Alan,” he said. “I think he’s behind this,” I said. “And Madison too. I overheard them talking.”

" Ughhh, leave me. " " Only in one condition, you will behave well. " " I don't want to eat anything. " " But I want it, and you need to help me in finishing them. " " God !!! You are so stubborn !! " " What ??? Look who is talking? " " What do you mean?? " " The pot is calling the cattle black," he said and started grinning. " " I will kill you. " " I almost died of a heart attack when you kissed me hesitantly. Please give me such heart attacks every day. Kill me by giving me as many heart attacks as you want. "

I am starting to feel things I did not expect to feel tonight. Then I remember him standing in front of the police today, lying with a straight face. The memory is like a bucket of cold water, suddenly splashing on me. I shake my head in disdain, “No. He is not getting anything from me tonight. Not a single smile, or a single word of praise.” He starts walking back to our table, carrying a small black cast iron pot. He sets it down carefully beside the empty silver plate. The pot is still steaming gently. I can see the pork inside, a beautiful reddish-orange color from the achiote spices, popping against the black pot.

One has a swan on it, the other has a friendly, smiling teapot pouring itself into a smaller, smiling teacup. “Which one do you want?” I ask, my voice still gruff from sleep. I didn’t speak to anyone on my mission to boil water. Everyone awake this early is wrong in the head. I don’t want to have a conversation at this hour with someone excited to start their day. They’re going to ask me to help them with something. Annie squints at the tins. I slowly step forward so she can see them better, but she still shrinks back as I get closer.

But I knew something was wrong just by smelling it. I looked up at them and immediately surrendered. I took the teapot, and because I didn't like the smell, I threw it at them. Pulled back and my eyes scared me. I threw the teapot and the tray in front of me. "Are you really underestimating me?! Who do you think is going to prepare that tea?! Get ready! Maybe not only your job will be in danger but also your life!"

Since I discovered that Tessa was my mate seven years ago, I started calling Mr Black dad and it has become a norm. "Coffee, tea, scotch, wine, beer?" I ask as I sit beside him. "Mmmm... Let's see... what is this old man craving... tea," he says with a smile. "Two cups of tea. Father wants his with milk and one sugar. Make mine black with three sugars," I say to the mind link and dad knows what I am doing and doesn't interrupt. "So, what brings you here? And don't tell me you missed my tea," I say and we both laugh.

He can't find me. I have to run away, somewhere, anywhere. He just can't find me. He may already know where I am for all I know. I walked right into a hard wall, stumbling back I lost my balance. I waited for my body to come in contact with the ground but it never came. I opened my tightly shut eyes, all the breath was knocked out of my lungs as I stared into a mesmerizing pair of green eyes. "Mr Black?" His face was barely an inch away from mine, his breath fanned against my face.

Richard held out a small wooden tea cup. "Sure." Using a cloth, I took the kettle off the fire, tilting it down into Richard's cup. The steamy brown liquid seeped out of the spout, then suddenly took on a solid form. "What the-" Richard pulled his cup, running a finger in its content. "It's frozen." "What?" Clifford moved closer, taking a look in his brother's cup. I yanked off the kettle lid, finding a slanted frozen block of tea. Oh no.

A man wearing a black tailcoat was walking steadily. He was walking towards a person sitting on a bronze chair with an eccentric design. The person was sitting while levering one of his legs on top of the other. And levering his right fist below his chin. On his face, was a mask with eyes. When the man arrived near that person, he downed on his knee and said: "My lord, looks like the Tadpole finally arrived in this place." Said the man in a tailcoat in a voice that full of respect towards the sitting person.

Finally, there was only one person left to serve. The King. As I approached him, my fear transformed into a living thing, coiling in my stomach and shaking my limbs. I steadied the heavy porcelain teapot, my hands trembling uncontrollably. I tipped it to pour into his cup. Suddenly, my wrist convulsed, causing the pot to wobble. Hot, steaming tea gushed out, overflowing the cup and cascading onto the King’s immaculate black pants. The tea spread in a dark stain across an intricate map laid on the table.