Scintilla

5. The Process of Getting to Know You

Before

Stephanie kneels at the foot of my bed. The darkness in my room hides her face. The tight grip of her hand around my calf keeps me grounded. The pressure is a reminder that I am here and she is here too. She isn't another ghost on a mission to steal my sanity.

"Please. We don't want to do this to you but we will. We will if we have to," her hoarse voice emphasizes the desperation of her pleas.

I can hear Lucas pacing in the hallway. The holes in the walls taunt me with the reminder of his anger.

I don't answer. I just close my eyes.

"Luna, we will do it this time. This has gone too far. We don't want to so please don't make us," her sobs fill the silence of the room.

And like a wave, the guilt rises within me.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Okay?" she comes closer to my face, trying to see my expression. "Okay? You will do it."

Her hands have come up to cradle my jaw. There's no need to answer when she feels the movement of my head.

***

My alarm rings, an abrupt sound dispelling my nightmares.

My body aches with stress. I slowly rotate my shoulders before getting up.

Getting ready takes time, I want to spend all day in the warmth of the shower. Where I can ignore how horrible everything has gone. I never expected someone to read me so quickly and accurately and yet somehow misinterpret who I am as a person. Michael is a troubling obstacle, my only consolation relies on the fact that he wants to reveal the depth of my feelings even less than I do. We are both caught in a stalemate and forced to perform for the sake of appearances.

I make my way downstairs. There is no one in the kitchen or living space. It is still quite early, seven o'clock. My alarm woke me up at five, a calculated move that gave me more time to compartmentalize. I'm sure Lucas and Amber won't be up for at least another hour. It gives me time to prepare breakfast.

Cooking is therapeutic. It is something I've always loved to do. I love creating meals and seeing my loved ones eat them. Eating after all is sustenance for the body. Eating is life.

For the next hour, I prepare homemade biscuits and herb potatoes along with creamy scrambled eggs. I cut up some food and put on the coffee. Amber and Lucas join me as the last plate is placed on the table.

"Perfect timing," I say as I take in their disheveled appearance. My eyes linger on Luca's sleepy smile. I turn away.

"The smells called us here," Amber smiles as I hand her a mug for the coffee. "I feel bad. As the guest, you aren't supposed to cook."

I shake my head. "I love cooking. It's a pleasure. If anything I'm the one who should feel guilty for going over all your kitchen."

Lucas raises an eyebrow, "Would you be you if you didn't raid kitchens and cook meals for your friends?"

He is right. This isn't the first time it happens. I shrug my shoulders in defeat.