I D K

more than one sound °•

Mom at work. 

Dad with his girl. 

Brother trying to forget about the world.

 I get up and put my shoes on. Wear my puffy black coat, and go for a walk. The weather's sparing us today. It's sunny with a little bit of wind. Ethereal colours of dawn play in the sky like paint on a canvas, only, the paint drips onto the table and floor and swallows everything whole. 

I'm on the usual path I take when I go to school, but today I'm taking a left. I take the sharp cut and glee fills my bones. Even though I'm not breaking any rules, I feel like a full-blooded rebel. 

Next thing I know, I see Jeremey in front of me, he's holding bags of groceries, but there's way too many. He looks like he's struggling. 

"Think you can give me a hand?" Jeremey asks as if yesterday didn't happen. 

"Sureeee." I say slowly.

 "Jack's making pancakes, let's go." Jeremey says. Hearing Jack's name sends pain to my core. He probably hates me now, who wouldn't?

 "I'm not hungry, I already had breakfast-." I lie. But, I'm midsentence when my tummy grumbles. And oh god, I'm not kidding you, it felt like an earthquake. 

My cheeks started to flush, well I thought they were, then I remembered I don't blush anymore. Ahead of me, Jeremey is attempting to stifle a laugh, emphasis on the word "attempt". 

"I think your stomach has other plans." Jeremey chuckles.

 No point in lying.

 I take a few of the grocery bags from his hands. Eventually, we reach the place. It seems quite small from the outside. The dingy house definitely needs to be repainted. The white is peeling, and the red roof looks like it's going to collapse.

 Jeremey opens the door and holds it for me. 

Instantly, my senses are bombarded with the smell of vanilla and maple. My mouth starts to water. 

"Brought the pancake mix and... a little someone." Jeremey hollers from the foyer. 

Fiera slides through the hall and attacks Jeremey. "You're back." she snuggles him tight. God, they're total love birds. 

Eww. 

"Come, the pan is sizzling, I gotta make the batter," Jack says. "Oh and we're almost out of butter-" he opens the door in front of us, which is presumably the kitchen. He stops at the sight of me. 

"Oh, Jyia," he says, he sounds stressed. I'm not surprised he's keeping his composure. 

"I guess we have enough for another," he says.

 I enter the white-tiled kitchen and place the bags on the counter. 

Do the three of them live together? 

I take a seat at a bar stool by the sparkly counter. "We'll go get the plates," Jeremey says too quickly while dragging Fiera out the kitchen with him. "What?" Fiera hisses underneath her breath.