Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

"Mom!" She hissed and leaned close to her, almost covering her mouth as she tried to cut her off from the kind of conversation it would go, to think she would get to it right from the get-go. "Don't make him feel too uncomfortable. My boyfriend isn't like that!"

Nathalie gestured his hand at Jonathan, who propped his elbow on his thighs with clasped hands, lowering his head while he avoided their stern gazes.

"So it is true…"

"Mom! We need to talk." She grabbed her arm as she tried to pull her up. Her Mother went all clueless, spouting a series of 'Why's but not that she would entertain them until they get to the kitchen.

"Mi Amor! I hope you can entertain Jonathan for a while." She hollered with a sweet wink at him, even being dragged out of the living room.

William didn't answer, but he grabbed a wine from the cool box beside him, thumbs up to boot.

'This family, really…'

Nathalie took a stride on the varnished hardwood floor; the place she was in bore no difference from any humble home: a two-story house with each ceiling almost thrice her height and spacious enough for five members.

From the beige walls had bookshelves with the TV set, and the other side had plaques and frames of unforgettable memories and a bunch of family photos—both early and later years. There were also individual pictures, hung with a descending pattern, of hers and her brothers: medals, certificates, and worthy displayers found in them as well.

Everything was plain and neat for most of the living room, with a tinge of nature themes around. The choice of furniture, motifs, and ornamental plants that Julia took care of thoroughly gave her soul a sudden nostalgia.

She could say the same thing for the dining room conjoined with the small kitchen, except with the appliances deemed necessary for everyday use. Out of them all, eyes ogled at the myriad displays of food—from appetizers to desserts for the new year.

'What a bountiful night!'

"Okay, Talia. We're now far away from them. What are you doing?"

"No, Mom, what are 'You' doing over there? You know he's the shy type; why should you tease him?"

More than anything, Julia grinned, and she knew she was up to no good. "Say, I'm proud of you. He's quite a catch." With her eyebrow arched to intriguing heights.

"Mom, I swear, don't you dare embarrass me." She rubbed at her temple. "Right, Jonathan and I are tired from the trip. May we have something to drink, please?"

"A drink—?"

"Jonathan!" she yelled several steps away from the living room, peeking her head out for him to see. "Do you want a glass of pineapple juice?"

"I do need one!"

"See? I told you, Mom." Of course, it was scripted; it was one of her contingency plans to escape from such delirious interrogation. She crossed her arm, harrumphing, then back to Jonathan. "Mom will get you in a minute, so hang in there."

"You…" Squinting and with a pout, Julia's lips let out a fair warning, "You better watch out—"

"And you better not pout. I'm telling you why."

"Whatever. Do you need one as well?" Julia asked, which Nathalie nodded in response." Okay, I'll get back to you."

"Oh, before I go and forget this." Nathalie clasped her hands and reached for her sling bag, and got a box that's wrapped aesthetically. "This is for you."

"Oh my, may I open it right now?"

Julia asked, which then slowly tugged the white lace from Nathalie's signal. There, it was a branded smartphone, and her jaw dropped as she couldn't believe it in her eyes.

"Mom, I think you need a smartphone more than anything else. So I hope you take good care of that."

More than anything, Nathalie hoped that she would understand at this moment what she wanted to convey with this initiative.

"How could I even take this? I'm grateful to be able to receive this marvelous gift from your boyfriend."

"He would be happier than ever if you would take it to heart and handle it with care. I hope you don't make it hard for him, please." Nathalie reached for her Mother's hands, caressing her slightly calloused palms. "Also, I will continue to work hard, so please take care of yourself."

"I know, I know. You got me so emotional now." Julia harrumphed and turned her back.

Nathalie just knew what she thought after seeing Jonathan, but then, the other side of her couldn't help but tell if only she knew.

She could only fake it until she made it to the end, the time that would favor her—the only daughter that her parents could be proud of…

"There are still more gifts from his car."

"I knew it! You two didn't just walk all the way here, and I feel bad that the streets are too narrow here—Foolish girl!" Julia smacked Nathalie's shoulder lightly. "Why didn't you call us?"

"Mom, we're almost late because he still has some appointments. Even suggested bringing this for now as a token of appreciation. After we celebrate the new year, we will bring our luggage and gifts here."

"...Entendio…"

"I will go upstairs for a while, Mom. I have to put this manuscript I have on my study desk."

"You do that." Julia waved off her hand as she walked to the kitchen sink.

She then took astride to the stairs. Every platform she took brought more nostalgia, the pressuring and competitive childhood she had.

Her brother, James Wyatt Quinn, was in the room adjacent to the stairs. She knocked thrice and greeted her brother but expected the same reply.

"You're here already. Happy New Year, go and change your clothes." He muttered indifferently behind closed doors.

"What a heartwarming and gallant reply." Her replies dripped with satire and moved out to the next.

There was no surprise seeing the next room: his little brother, Peter Neil Quinn, who cursed aloud while he slammed his table as what she heard behind the doors.

She just stood by the door; as much as she wanted to wait and surprise them, she just heaved a sigh. "I guess the two of them could care less," she uttered before moving away.

Suddenly, Nathalie got a call—from Daisy Rae Adelaide, which made her smile.

But her face cracked when it was his voice quaked and not from Daisy.

"...Jean—Mah Jean, I—but…"