"Ashes Reborn, Trauma Reformed" Nimona

"Please? For me?"

Nimona had been sleeping soundly, her dreams a blank canvas of nothingness. But a sudden tickle on her senses brought her back to awareness. She wrinkled her nose, lifting her head off the pillow slightly as she tried to identify the strange smell in the air. Smoke. She scrunched her nose, trying to ignore the strange sensation of danger and rolled over, pulling the blanket over her head in an attempt to go back to sleep.

But then she heard the clatter of kitchenware. Instinctively, Nimona leapt from the couch and shapeshifted to a cat, hissing loudly with her hackles raised and claws unsheathed. She was ready to fight or flee, whatever it took to protect herself, only to be greeted by a silently panicking Ballister. The teen groaned loudly, still drousy with added frustration as seasoning to her morning. "Could you keep it down!?"

Ballister turned his head to look at the teen in shock. He had been too focused on the fire to notice her entering the room.

"Sorry, kid!" He said nervously, trying to extinguish the flames in the pan. Nimona pushed off her hind legs, leaping from the highest point of the couch and landing in the kitchen as a girl. Snatching the flaming pan from her friend, she watched it sizzle under the coldness of the tap water, spitting out from the metal toward her in a vengeful rage. Nimona turned back to Ballister, her expression un-amused.

"Aha.. uh, thanks!" He said, watching her drop the pan and close the tap. She took a deep breath.

"You're banned from my kitchen."

Bal paused a moment. "Your kitchen?"

"Yes. My kitchen." She reiterated, turning her back to him as she trudged back to the couch she was rudely awoken from. "If you're hungry, order something or wait for me to not be so busy." Nimona stretched, arching her back before letting herself fall back onto the rickety makeshift bed she'd been using since they'd met.

Ballister folded his arms, leaning back against the countertop. "I can make my own food, thank you!" He mockingly scoffed, a playful glint in his eye that disappeared when he met eyes with his teen sidekick. "What?"

"That -" She began, pointing at the burnt pan in the sink. "- was not food." Her face held an expression of boredom, deadpanning him the entire ordeal. Ballister eyed the pan that was now scorched black with the food he had tried to make inedibly glued to the metal.

He sighed and turned back to the girl who had flopped back down against the cushions. "We could go out for breakfast instead." Ballister suggested, a hopeful gleam lingering in his wide pupils.

Not bothering to open her eyes, Nimona laughed. "Good one, boss." Rolling onto her side, she pulled the blanket back over herself lazily. Bal put down the cloth he was holding and walked to the couch, peering down at his friend.

"I'm serious." He spoke softly, watchful of how he chose his next words. "You've not left here for three (3) weeks now, Nim." His eyes were coated with concern as they scanned the teen for any reaction to gauge her thoughts. A sigh startled him slightly, not expecting her to make any noise at all in hopes he'd just leave her alone.

"I don't fancy being stared at." She mumbled. "Besides, you told me to rest, remember?" Nimona questioned, mocking him as she spoke.

"That was when you first got back." Ballister explained. "You know, when you were still rebuilding your literal physical form."

"Hey, you're the one who was concerned!" The teen bit back, not meaning to be as outwardly frustrated as she was inside the blanket that now sat at her waist. "I told you I was fine." She huffed, sitting up and pulling the cushion from behind her until it was between her torso and legs. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them as close to her as the object would allow, and resting her head upon the soft and worn material.