By The Lantern-Light (A CherriSnake AU)

VII - Bullseye, Baby!

⬪◁──✿『』✿──▷⬪

I sighed through my nose as I shut the spare bedroom door behind me.

Not only had I been riddled with social anxiety by the impending offer of a mysterious gentleman from downtown, but I also had to deal with an uncooperative, rage-filled pyromaniac.

Lovely.

I walked a few paces to my own bedroom, between the boys' room and Cherri Bomb's temporary quarters. While preparing her sandwich, I had gotten some bacon grease on my coat. I changed quickly and inspected myself in my mirror.

The dark circles under my eyes were proof that I had not slept a wink the night before. I wiped at my face, as though expecting the dreary colour to come off, and frowned.

"Mr. Calixte?"

I glanced over in the mirror. Edgar stood in the door with a blank face.

"Hm?" I brushed some hair out of my face, grimacing at the ever-present grey streak.

"Can I make some toast?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Edgar, we have been over this. You do not have to ask for permission to cook; you're not a toddler anymore."

I grabbed a small jar of color correction from my vanity drawer, then proceeded to cover the rings under my eyes. This particular formula, concocted by one of the most popular beauty essential brands in France, was my go-to after restless nights. The label on the jar read, 'Miss Velvette's Complexion Cream.'

After smoothing out the cream, I turned towards Edgar. "I have a meeting at half two, that gives me..." I trailed off as I pulled out my pocket watch. "...about three hours. I'm going to read for a bit. I need something to calm these nerves." I tried to ignore the less-than-subtle tremors in my hands.

Edgar nodded. "And you checked on Miss Bomb?" His eyes glinted with curiosity.

The twins had almost no frame of reference regarding the explosive woman that was Cherri Bomb. I never allowed them to see her or participate in our crudely scheduled 'meetings' for their own safety; let alone formally meet her. Edgar had shown an increasing interest in talking to her the past year, ever since he started hyper-fixating on the mechanics of weaponry. I bluntly refused to even show him any of the unexploded bombs. I had caught him drawing and theorizing about her bombs, integrating the heavy amounts of archaic mica flake confetti and colored smoke that Miss Bomb used often. While I was proud of his ability to fill in the gaps with such limited information, I feared he would try to work with something he had no understanding of.

I also declined buying him glitter, in the case that he got the idea to practice inside of my workshop. I may have been developing a phobia of the stuff.

"Yes, I did. Please leave her be while I am gone."

"What if she needs something?"

"I'm sure she will be fine for an hour or two. I just hope she doesn't try to walk out of here with her leg the way it is." A flicker of worry for her managed to alight.

Edgar glanced to the floor, his face still characteristically placid. "I'm going to go make that toast. Bye."

"Alright. You should check if your brother wants some as well..?"

I heard a mumbled reply from him as he left. After finishing up with making myself look half decent, I finally lounged in my bed to read.

────

The carriage ride to the meeting was unremarkable, yet there was still a hint of unease in my thoughts as my mind flashed through the horrific events of the past night. I thought about the boys, and I thought about Cherri Bomb. I was sure she would be alright, but she was so unpredictable at times that I could not assure myself of her safety.