Mr and Mrs Nemesis✔️

Chapter Six - Little Duckling Algorithm

I return home, thankful that detention helped me avoid Seb, Collins and Alena, scared that any probing into the activities of my free period will either send me into a Hulk frenzy or Notebook worthy tear fest. Obviously, detention wasn't exactly the prime of my day. Elijah was certainly butthurt about my emotional outburst, refusing to even look at me as I continued researching for the essay. Usually, I'd be rather pleased at the silence that ensued, but for some reason, I had this really awful burn in my stomach. I'd have called it guilt, but that seemed unlikely.

Inside, Ezra seems to be having a much better day that me, having finally found some sort of optimism that has carried him from the safety of his bedroom to the comforts of the living room couch. Of course, the tub of low calorie ice cream sat on his lap does little to disguise the fact he's still mending his broken heart with the support of saturated fats, but the way I'm feeling, grab me a spoon.

Rather than interrupt, I kick off my shoes and throw down my bag just over the threshold. Considering there is neither a balding man sat at the breakfast bar or a tall greying woman prancing around the kitchen, I take it to be evidence enough that both my parents are still at work. Seeking comfort in food much like my older brother, I warm up the left over takeaway in the microwave, slouching myself over the kitchen counter as I eat, displaying hostility in every stab of my fork.

"Eat quietly, I'm trying to watch Tangled." Ezra shouts over at me. I raise a brow lazily and twist myself to look into the living room where in fact, on the TV, Rapunzel in dancing around in the Snuggling Duckling, frying pan in hand, singing till her hearts content.

"Aren't you twenty one?" I ask him. I see him shrug, hidden slightly behind the backrest of the sofa.

"It's a feel good movie; now sit down and enjoy the romance or bog off." He tells me. Frankly, I could do with some Flynn Rider in my life, so I concede to his proposition and sit myself on the sofa adjacent. Why can't all men be like Flynn Rider? Hot, flirty, brave, and prepared to die for me. Is it too much to ask for? "You're thinking too loud." Ezra tells me after I grumble in disappointment at the shambles that is real life.

"I'm imagining a life where Flynn Rider is my husband." I confess.

"His name is actually Eugene Fitz Herbert; if you don't know that, you're not worthy of his hand in marriage." I scrunch my face up at him before launching a cushion across the room, snorting as it hits him at such an angle that it redirects his spoonful of ice cream into his nose. "Twat." He mumbles with a scowl, making my lips twitch in amusement. I settle back on the sofa. "How was your day?" He asks eventually.

The penultimate to my death day, I imagine. Featuring tears, a devil horned ex-boyfriend, an obsessive, irritating demon, and an attitude that was completely uncalled for. Stick in the grim reaper and his scythe, then you've got a party. Rather than say that, I just shrug and say, "Fine. How was yours?"

"Better. I haven't cried. Though I'm not holding out on that one – I very often shed a tear at the end of this movie." He tells me honestly, nodding in the direction of the television.

"But he doesn't die." I inform him, which only results in the pillow being thrown at the back of my head, forcing me to jolt forward from impact.

"It's emotional, you robot." He retorts sharply. After a small moment of silence, he speaks again. "Oli called me today. He's coming home next month." I swivel round, overcome with excitement. My partner in crime to return once more. If ever a way to cheer me up.

"He is?" I ask without being able to disguise the glee in my voice.

"Yup. Says he wants to be here when Ferne has the baby. Apparently, he needs to be the first uncle it see's when it's fresh out the womb. He reckons it works like ducks and the kid will imprint on the first uncle it sees, hence making him the favourite."