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Virginia Marjorie Curtis never believed she was destined to embrace love. In a family where her brothers, one stoically handsome, another bright-eyed and energetic, and the last mysterious but boyish, took center stage, she had fallen back on the fervor of her wit and will to make a statement of purpose. So the last person who she believed would be swayed by her odd charms was—
"Dal?"
She blearily rubbed her eyes, hoping to see what she was seeing. Dallas looked up from the sizzling pan on the stove, a bit taken aback by her sudden intrusion into the kitchen. The sky outside was pale blue, tinged in hues of violet and pink like stretched cotton candy from the sunrise. It had enraptured Virginia more than once when she first opened her eyes until the scent of eggs vented in her room.
Though Dallas would (or possibly currently had) some serious issues concerning his lack of drinking water and eating a carrot every now and then, he wasn't completely inept in the field of kitchen work. In fact, he learned earlier than Virginia how to make sure he didn't go hungry. It only took a significant motivation to get him to tackle pots and pans like seeing an empty fridge after his mother's been missing for two days or treating the love of his life after she strategically saved him.
Even though it was a half-baked plan that Virginia secretly wasn't sure would work. But that morning, she could feel her fingers and toes and knew something went right.
Perhaps the haunted look in her eyes became a part of her broad package of facial expressions because she felt Dallas nudge her nonchalantly.
"What's your deal?"
She blinked, dragged out of the realm of her thoughts. "Uh, nothing..." Her eyes drifted past the window where a half-clipped gingham curtain showed a sliver of the morning sun. "I'm admiring how beautiful the dawn is."
"Alright." He shoved a plate into her hands and ladled a cluster of scrambled eggs onto it. "Eat 'fore you pass out in a painting." He tossed a stained dishcloth over his shoulder, cracking open two more eggs in the skillet. Virginia didn't make a comment about it, even if she knew he was preparing food for her family.
"I called Principal Boyd— or-or he called me," she began, pushing around the clumps of egg. All she could taste was smoke and tar but she dared not let it go to waste. "Said I could take a day off with the 'commotion in our neighborhood'."
"Think the paper's gonna feature us again?" Dallas asked wryly.
"Heroes once again," Virginia chuckled. "Instead of capes, we have denim jackets and black leather."
She ate slowly, listening to the sounds of plates clinking and butter sizzling. A warm feeling surged inside of her, seeing Dallas just living. He was smiling now. Virginia didn't see him smile a real smile in so long, since before her parents' passing. She wanted to hold onto that moment forever, a fleeting little photograph crumbling in her hands. But there would be more of those moments, she could tell.
