Bikes & Blood

𝐗𝐕𝐈.

"Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down. When they do I'll be right behind you"
- Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Lorde.

Music played softly from the speakers of a small stereo perched upon the kitchen counter, wreathed together with the distinct smells of garlic, herbs, simmering tomato sauce, and browning mince on the stovetop. A warm Californian breeze blew in through the open windows, ruffling the sheer curtains above the sink as Sam turned off the stove filled with mince, tomato sauce, and herbs. Stepping over Ares with a glance out at the star-filled sky, the Malamute emitting soft measured breaths of air as he slept with his head resting upon his front paws.

Amara watched with a soft smile across her face as Sam bent down to run his fingers through Ares's black and white fur. Lasagna sheets lined a silver tray, mince and tomato sauce layered in between sheets of lasagna, left from Sam's earlier ministrations with a thick layer of grated cheese sprinkled across the top-left momentarily forgotten on the bench whilst he bent down and fussed over the sleeping Malamute. Amara's father's fingertips drummed against the wooden tabletop in time with the beat of the music, the wind ruffling his curls as his peppery-grey eyes strayed from his younger brother who hummed along to Bon Jovi's 'Bed of Roses' to Amara.

"Hey, Sam, where'd you say you've been with Edgar and Alan for the past..." Amara's father paused, fingertips ceasing their drumming on the table as he tried to recall what the blonde-haired man had told him. "What's it been? Two? Three months?"

"Three months, Mike. It's been three months since Edgar, Alan and I've been back to Santa Carla." Sam replied, opening the door to the oven, and sliding the tray of lasagna in with an exasperated breath of air.

Amara furrowed her brows with confusion. "Weren't you in New Orleans?"

Sam grinned, pleased that at least one of them had been paying attention to his migrating work habits. "We were, but Edgar wanted to check up on his sons. It's been months since he left them in charge of the comic bookstore."

She chuckled. The dimples in her cheeks showing as she tucked stray curls behind her ears. "The twins are fine. They take care of that store better than you'd expect from two boys." Pausing as she tilted her head with unveiled curiosity. "What's in New Orleans?"

"New Orleans is renowned for its rich culture of myths and legends. Edgar, Alan and I grew fascinated with anything supernatural back in nineteen-eighty-seven, so that's what we do. We study myths and legends, deciphering the myths from reality from place to place." Sam explained, enthusiasm rippling off of him the more he continued to speak.

"I didn't know you were a mythographer," She murmured.

"Self-proclaimed mythographers, Amara." Her father pointed out, chuckling to himself with an amused shake of his head, goading his younger brother with his diverted tone of voice.

Sam narrowed his eyes at his older brother, nose scrunching up into a playful scowl, lips twitching as though he was fighting the urge to grin. "Aw Mikey, it beats working a shitty nine-to-five job from home."

Her father released an amused huff of air, brushing a dirt-brown curl away from his face while mirth danced in his irises. "A shitty job it might be, Sammy, but that nine-to-five job pays well."

"So... all I'm getting from this enlightening conversation is that Dad's stay at home job is shit and you're a self-proclaimed myth buster of sorts." Amara drawled, delighted by the antics of her father and uncle.

"I'm glad you find it enlightening, Mars, because your mental enrichment means the absolute world to me." Sam jested, a playful glint rippling in his baby-blue eyes.