08, Another Agent

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❝ 08 , another agent❞


The kitchen was quiet as Demi moved through. The pot was boiling pasta on the stove and she was praying that George hadn't taken the rest of the pasta sauce from the fridge. She was saving it for her lunch, which was her first proper meal of the day. After her typical routine, she hadn't eaten proper breakfast, taken by tinkering in her room instead.

It wasn't intentional but time had slipped away and it was only when she heard clattering from George in his room that she realised what time it was. Her stomach was rumbling unhappily and so, she had headed downstairs.

George and Lockwood seemed to be occupied with other things so Demi hadn't seen either of them yet. Which led to her singing quietly along to the radio as she stirred the pasta, not worried about their sudden appearance. Throwing her hands out dramatically along with the lyrics, she walked over to the fridge. She pulled it open and snatched up the sauce that was - thankfully - there. She slammed the fridge shut and when it got to the chorus, she began to belt out the lyrics as she crossed back to the stove.

Singing was a common occurrence for Demi so when Lockwood - from the library - heard her. He didn't think twice of it and instead, found a smile spreading across his lips. He even placed his magazine to listen in mild amusement. The little things she did, Lockwood found extremely endearing, not that he would admit it.

Rather than simply listening, he eventually decided that it was best to converse with the girl since they hadn't spoken at all since they had returned from the dud client.

Demi didn't notice as the kitchen door opened, still singing to the lyrics as she tried to stab her fork into the pasta to check if it was done. She blew on the pasta before she took it into her mouth, grimacing at the hardness. She dropped it back into the water.

"I'm glad you're not cooking for me," He commented. Demi's head snapped up and a grin appeared on her face. A playful grin and she rolled her eyes before she turned the radio down.

"I didn't know if you guys were up," She dismissed. He hummed in response as he wandered over to where she was standing by the stove. She turned the heat up on the pasta before she leant back against the counter, looking up to meet Anthony's gaze.

"George is still sleeping it off," He responded. Demi scoffed and she bopped her head along to the beat of the music still. There was something so happy about the music from the 70s even though that's when the Problem started. It was all so upbeat, endearing, filled with love and joy. It was hard not to dance along.

"Sleeping what off?" Demi cocked an eyebrow, smirking. Anthony shrugged and then he leant past her to grab a mug from the counter. She stood there, frozen for a second but when he pulled back - mug in hand - he didn't seem phased. She tried to ignore the way the butterflies erupted in her stomach, "We did all the work," She mumbled. Anthony chuckled and then he flicked the kettle on to boil the water.

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