♠ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ♠ | ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ | ʙᴏᴏᴋ 1

|♠ 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ♠|

"It is hard to imagine a more stupid or more dangerous way of making decisions than by putting those decisions in the hands of people who pay no price for being wrong."

Thomas Sowell

"Y'ALL KNOW, JELL-O USED TO BE A DELICACY," Elliott declared.

We all sat around the coffee table in the couches that sat opposite each other. I sat on one with Diego, facing Vanya, who I smiled at politely. She waved back, sitting with Luther on the couch closer to the window, who faced Diego. Number Two was fiddling with a couple of knives, menacingly staring at Vanya. I could tell she felt uncomfortable about it.

"You know, in order to make it," Elliott continued, "you gotta boil down a whole mess of hooves...you know, horses, cows, pigs, it doesn't matter. But not everybody has a mess of hooves just lying around. It wasn't until, uh...a couple of sassy New Yorkers figured out how to dry it out so that the rest of us could have a...a chance to enjoy this ambrosia."

Diego stared irritatedly. "If we have some, will you shut up?"

"Maybe," Elliott replied. "Here." He started digging into the bowl with a spoon, loading some colorful sludge into a glass dish.

Luther grimaced at it, turning to Vanya. "How you feeling?"

"Pretty shitty, to be honest," she responded. She was practically lying on the couch, she was slumped down so far.

"Where would you say you are on a scale from one to..." Diego trailed off, thinking and flipping his knife. "...ending all life on this planet?"

"Probably somewhere around...about to shove your foot down your throat if you don't stop being a dick," I replied thoughtfully. "Oh wait, that's how I'm feeling! Silly me."

Diego glared at me, though still fiddling with his weapon. I just smiled without genuinity.

"Diego, put the knife away, you idiot," Luther hissed. "She's fine."

"The last time I saw this one, she had me suspended in midair, sucking the life out of me with energy tentacles." He held onto the knife this time, pointing it at Luther. "I think I'm allowed a little time to process."

"Can you really do that?" I asked, leaning forward in interest. "Here, try it again, on him," I said, gesturing to Diego.

"Y/N!" Luther exclaimed.

"I don't remember what I did, but I'm sorry..." Vanya apologized tiredly. "If...if that means anything."

After a moment, Diego dropped the hand holding the knife onto his lap. "It does. Just going through a lot right now. There's this..." He glanced at me, then turned back. "...girl that I like." I raised an eyebrow, but figured I shouldn't make a sarcastic comment about this. "I thought she liked me, but turns out that she's..."

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and laughter echoed through the building.

"Oh, thank God," Luther muttered, standing up. 

"Is anyone here?" a distant female voice asked as everyone stood, besides me. I was stuck with a wounded leg, though to be honest, it was feeling much better already. I just didn't want to leave. "Hello?"

"Le petit mort, le petit mort," another male voice muttered.

"What?" The woman laughed. "You don't speak French."

"It's 'the little death'." Everyone went over to the balcony, and after a moment, they all went downstairs to meet with their family.

I sighed as the chatter went on, glancing down at my bandage. The blood was seeping through just a little bit, but otherwise, it looked like it was healing quickly.