MISC «morose! morose! morose!»

XI.

XI.

    Specks white clung to Nora's exposed skin, even dusting the socks of hers, the beautiful frock she had on long forgotten, for Normani Penn was cooking. The dinner. Involved spaghetti carbonara with cream and no egg — paired with — "I have got it, sista!"

    Nora had her own doubts about being a year younger than the two — Westerly Penn and Eleanor Penn.

    Walking mannequins.

    "What's that?"

      Nora coyly mumbled, watching over the skillet over stove before the ingredients inside were overcooked. Ellie, in the bluest of blue night dress and  hair set back in flowing stream of egg whites, followed Wes. "Do you need a hand?"

      "It's fine."

      "Aren't you gonna open the thing?"

    Wes pushed a polythene at her. Startled, she yelped. But nonetheless peeked inside. A shiny, satiny, half white box and inside were red — "Strawberries!" Her small mouth bit into one, a sense of satisfaction charmed her into taking one more. Sour little strawberry. "Ah-ha," Ellie said dryly, expressionless altogether. Westerly wasn't least bothered though. He jumped fist bumping. Enthusiastically. "Who's the top hundred Instagram influencers! "

     While Nora tapped her chin (with what seemed to mock curiosity for her brother's sake), Ellie somewhere down already knew. Westerly Penn had a small world. He was concerned with their drug dealer, Kaisei Seon, Nora and herself. Maybe in a descending order. Ellie was obviously—

Anywho, the day she witnesses Kai hovering over the tiny camera-obsessed icon aka Instagram, she'd — actually, she won't know how to react. The earth would have blasted into fit and rapture of gas clouds, among which particles ballet.

     "Imogen Serum?" She heard Nora guess.

    And excused herself.

    "It's her! Please tell me its her! Its her isn't it?"

    "You bet!" With that, he seized her up and regardless of the minimum space —  spun her in circles, round and round, while she chanted party ideas. "Fairy party!" "Piano party?" "Terrace party!" "Hot chocolate lava party-"

     "What's that?" His curiosity got to him and halted him momentarily. Still happy. Smiley.

    "I made it up," she said, giggles following.

     "Don't take credits for her!"

    A bored voice, that is, the nonactive part of their sibling circle shouted while surfing Netflix. As the kitchen area was small, no wonder her firm voice rang. Wes' reaction was : "as if!" In retrospect, the dining table two times the kitchen island. Owing to which, Nora almost bumped her knee somewhere around the island, and winced. When Wes brought her to ground — she leaned backwards, seeking support, seeing stars. About the minor injury : tan was almost fading, much like her happiness.

    "Did you add eggs at all?"

    Nora set down the skillet with a huff. Smoke was clouding the room, and her vision.

    "Ellie asked me not to." First serve had Wes written over it, clearly.

     "What's the problem?" Ellie, sat on the opposite side like the head of the house, was ready to sneer at his giddiness. "Its not like you're vegetarian or something," he muttered, then forked a piece and chewed thoughtfully. "Nora!" Side hug across. "Love it." Nora did a peace sign.

    "If you must know — I put them in my hair for nourishment." To emphasis,  she ran palms over her faux-Bebe-Rexha haircut.

    "Get over yourself "