Robert made his way down the hall, the sounds of the party downstairs getting fainter. He meandered around, looking at the family photos that hung neatly on the wall of his brother's mansion of a house. He found himself wandering further down and noticed a light from the far end bedroom.
Megan sat at her desk, scribbling in her notebook, the stereo softly playing. She heard a gentle knock at the door. "Hello?" a familiar voice sang. Megan smiled and opened the door.
"Hi, Uncle Robert." She hugged him.
"Hello, sweetie." He hugged her back.
"How's the party?"
"Boring without you."
"No children allowed."
He huffed. "You are not a child. You're eighteen for Christ's sakes."
"But I'm still in school."
"How is school? Is that your homework over there?"
"Um, well, not exactly." He strolled over to her desk, placing his wine glass on her dresser. She hurried behind him, picking up the notebook before he could reach it.
He raised an eyebrow. "Love letters to a young boy?"
"No! No. Just stories and poems."
"I didn't know you wrote."
"Sometimes... I, I wanna be a writer, like you."
He smiled. "How flattering. Can you read me something?" He settled onto her bed.
"Um, well, it's not really..."
"I'm sure it's brilliant. If it came from you, it has to be." He padded the bed.
"Well, ok." She sat next to him.
He stared at her mouth as she read. Her tongue darted out ever so slightly, wetting her lips.
"So, waddya think? It's stupid isn't it?"
"I didn't know you had such talent. Do your parent's know?"
She shook her head. "You and my English teacher are the only ones."
"I think with more experience, you'll have a great career. Better than mine."
She beamed. "You think so?!"
"I know so. You're writing is as beautiful as you." He held her cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
She shyly turned away. "I don't know about that."
He turned her face back to him. "Trust me," he whispered leaning in, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
"Uncle Robert..."
"I'm not just saying that. You are smart and attractive." He looked longingly at her, before standing up. "I should get back to the party."
"Wait, Uncle Robert," she grabbed his hand. "You think you could teach me... about writing."She lead him back to her bed and sat down at the edge staring up at him. He placed a hand atop her head, stroking her hair.