Bare Intentions

The spoon in my hand suddenly felt unbearably heavy, slipping from my fingers and landing softly on the carpet.

Alistair bent down, gently picked it up, washed it in the bathroom, and then came back to sit next to me again.

"Alistair, are you trying to ruin me?" My voice was shaking.

Alistair met my gaze, unwavering. "It's not like that. Trust me."

"Why should I trust you? You're Tristan's uncle.