The Mafia's Muse

7. Avery's Emory

I like him better than any of them.

"Thank you." I gave him a small smile.

His eyes widened but he didn't say anything and mumbled a quiet follow me. A small yawn escaped me as we walked downstairs and he frowned a bit hearing it.

"Did you not sleep well last night? Would you like some tea?" He asked nicely.

We walked into the kitchen to see a chef who looked to be in his fifties. He was a bit short, very think, his brown hair was graying and he had hazel eyes. He looked at us and put the bowl he had down before waving.

"Bonjour! I am Milton, the chef. Is there something you need? Something I can help with?" He questioned politely.

Oh, so he was French.

As I said, I have lived in a lot of places which meant new languages. I could understand languages in the places I lived but I don't know if I could speak it. I never had a chance to talk, to practice, but I just like being able to understand. The first few years of my life were hazy but I do remember being able to speak Russian. It was where I was born and Avery wanted me to know, if I tried now it'd probably come out a little rusty.

I looked at my hands and at both of them before signing lightly, I hate how I can't talk around people alone. The only time people hear my voice is if I'm with the boys but even then if there are looking at me I stop myself.

"Oh!" Jensen smiled and took out a small notepad and pen from his pocket, "I thought until I understand better that I should carry this around." He explained softly.

"Thank you." I signed before grabbing them.

I put it down on the counter before writing, "I was wondering if there was anything to make iced coffee? I'm not a fan of hot beverages other than a few teas or hot chocolate." I lifted it to show them.

"Of course, I can make you something. Your brothers are very fond of their coffee machine and drink a few cups a day. No matter how many times I've told them it's not good to drink that much they never listen." Milton shook his head.

They're not my brothers.

He walked over to a big machine and I internally gaped at the machine. Did they really need this thing? It had more buttons than a remote, okay fine I'm exaggerating but it was huge. He started moving around and turned on the machine as I sat on a barstool nearby. Jensen started walking around as well preparing something but I wasn't paying that much attention.

I think the times where I have nothing to do are the worst for me. My mind always had the habit of drifting off and I start reliving old memories. A few times I got stuck in flashbacks for what seemed like forever. I would refocus noticing my wet cheeks, my blurry eyes, and the scratches on my arms. I would feel the pain just for more to be added on to it. Speaking about pain, I need to get more painkillers because I only have enough for two weeks.

"Miss?" Someone spoke.

I blinked looking up to see Milton pointing in front of me. I looked down to see an Irish coffee glass filled to the top with iced coffee. I grabbed the straw and sipped it before my eyes slightly widened.

This shit is the bomb.

I gave him a thumbs up and he smiled pleased before going back to what he was doing earlier.

"Would you like something to eat? The masters usually wake up at different times so it's rare to eat breakfast together." Jensen explained grabbing a tray.

Perfect for me actually.

"No thank you. I'm not hungry yet." I gave him the pad.

He frowned a bit, "Alright, but if you get hungry I want you to come to Milton or myself right away. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and you shouldn't miss it." He said pointedly.