COMPLETED, demi becoming part of lockwood & co had been a complete accident. after a bad incident at the fittes agency, she wanted to find a smaller, safer company to work for. that was not lockwood & co and yet, she ended up there anyway. no parent...
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━━ CHAPTER EIGHT / change
The kitchen was quiet as Demi moved through. The pot was boiling pasta on the stove and she was praying that George hadn't taken the rest of the pasta sauce from the fridge. She was saving it for her lunch, which was her first proper meal of the day. After her typical routine, she hadn't eaten proper breakfast, taken by her tinkering in her room instead.
The boys seemed to be occupied with other things so she hadn't seen either of them yet. Which led to her singing quietly along to the radio as she stirred the pasta, not worried about their sudden appearance. Throwing her hands out dramatically along with the lyrics, she walked over to the fridge. She pulled it open and snatched up the sauce that was - thankfully - there. She slammed the fridge shut and when it got to the chorus, she began to belt out the lyrics as she crossed back to the stove.
It was a common occurrence so when Lockwood - from the library - heard her. He didn't think twice of it, mildly amused if anything. But he did think that it was best to converse with the girl since they hadn't spoken at all since they had returned from the dud client.
Not that Demi noticed as the kitchen door opened, still singing to the lyrics as she tried to stab her fork into the pasta to check if it was done. She blew on the pasta before she took it into her mouth, grimacing at the hardness. She dropped it back into the water.
"I'm glad you're not cooking for me," He commented. Demi's head snapped up and a grin appeared on her face. A playful grin and she rolled her eyes before she turned the radio down.
"I didn't know if you guys were up," She dismissed. He hummed in response as he wandered over to where she was standing by the stove. She turned the heat up on the pasta before she leant back against the counter, looking up to meet Anthony's gaze.
"George is still sleeping it off," He responded. Demi scoffed and she bopped her head along to the beat of the music still. There was something so happy about the music from the 70s even though that's when the Problem started. It was all so happy and boppy. It was hard not to dance along.
"Sleeping what off?" Demi cocked an eyebrow. Anthony shrugged and then he leant past her to grab a mug from the counter. She stood there, frozen for a second but when he pulled back - mug in hand - he didn't seem phased. She tried to ignore the way the butterflies erupted in her stomach, "We did all the work," She mumbled. Anthony chuckled and then he flicked the kettle on to boil the water.
"He did enough mental work for the three of us," Demi hummed softly in response and she glanced down at the pasta. She turned the heat down slightly before she ran her fingers through her hair, "I don't know how much of a dud that house was. I swear I saw something." Lockwood looked up from the cupboard where he had gone searching for a new box of teabags.
"Where?" He asked as he reached inside. His voice was muffled by the cupboard.
"In the dining room. I saw for like a split second, a death-glow or something," She responded. Her whole body then shifted so she could check if the pasta was cooked yet. She stabbed into it and took a testing bite of the piece and it was getting there. Still a little al dente so she left it again.
