If The World Ends Tomorrow | ONGOING

𝓈𝒾𝓍𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟸𝟶𝚝𝚑

"Mrs. Huxley really went all out," I murmur more to myself than anyone, as my hand runs along the wall of books on display. I'd been in this room before but that was a while ago, and it certainly wasn't this well decorated.

"She heard I like books," Eden explains. He's standing in a corner his hands tucked in his pockets, his foot tapping. 

"Must be like a wet dream for you." I look at him, his cheeks are tinted pink. He seems more on edge than normal.

He nods. "Sure."

I laugh, looking around the room once again, it was probably as big as my house, the bottom floor at least, it's the kind of room I dreamed of having as a kid.  I can't help but notice how big his bed is, mine's gotta be like a third of the size.

He has a desk in the corner stacked with books. I walk over to it, picking up the first one in the stack, it's "The History Of Law". There's no possible way whatever this is falls in the category of books he reads for enjoyment.

That would just be sad.

I look through the rest of the cover they all fall in the same thread of content, next to it is an open book with what looks to be notes, who the fuck writes notes during summer. 

He has pretty handwriting and looks very elegant like it belongs on a postcard being shipped from a castle in London. 

"You're into law?" I ask, looking in his direction.

He shakes his head. "I'm going to school for it."

I pick up on the unspoken words. "You don't want to?"

"It's a family tradition." He sounds resigned, he walks over standing next to me. "It's the one expectation my father has of me, that and to not get a girl pregnant."

"But you don't want to?" I look at him, noting the slight frown on his face. "You should tell your dad to go fuck himself, you only live once, do what you want, except maybe you shouldn't kill people, but you get the point."

His lips twitch up at the corners, almost resembling a smile, he shakes his head. "I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, not with my father."

Another piece of Eden's puzzle clicks.

"What would you be doing if wasn't for him? Your dad I mean." I adjust the pencil holder on the desk. "Enlighten me."

He hesitates, I almost think he isn't going to answer. "I've always liked psychology."

"Ah, so you like knowing the inner workings, what makes a person who they are. It's interesting isn't it?"

He nods.

"I might have liked to become a therapist, psychologist, whatever the fuck it is, I haven't got the smarts for it though." I turn to him. "But you, Stranger. You could do it."

He looks at me like he's trying to figure something out.

My eyes catch on a familiar book, I reach over to grab it, it's the book of pictures that Mrs. Huxley showed me 2 weeks ago. It's gotta be at least 5 pounds, surely there weren't been that many pictures. 

I loved seeing pictures of people when they were younger, it puts so much into perspective, reminds you that everyone is just a kid who grew up.

"Aww," I hold up the book, so Eden can see the picture I'm looking at, he's on top of the counter a cookie shoved into his mouth he looks bewildered. "And here I thought you were a goody two shoes."

"They were good cookies."

A knock on the door has both Eden's and I's heads turning, the door creaks open and Mrs. Huxley peeks her head in. 

"I was thinking we could play cards." She holds up a box of cards. "But only if you're not busy, I don't want to be a bother."

⋆・○・✮・○・⋆

Its midday the sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Mrs. Huxley's living room. A deck of cards lies between us, the crisp sound of shuffling filling the air as Mrs. Huxley shuffles the cards with skill that shows she's done it many times before, she told me that she'd shuffle the cards for her father back when she was a child. She helped him cheat, she says it's fine because everyone cheated.

"You ready to lose, Stranger?" I raise an eyebrow as the cards are dealt.

He nods. "Sure," his expression calm as he's given his cards. 

He leans back in his chair, his posture is relaxed though his spine is still crazy straight, mine straightens in response, being around him these past couple of days has made me too aware of my awful posture. 

That and the fact that I might be a little stupid, considering I don't what half the words he uses mean, to be fair I never did pay attention in school. 

Furthermore, since 7th grade I've been almost too high to function the majority of the day, I don't recommend it if you actually want to get anywhere, but it does make school less boring, makes life feel like a movie.

"Sure?" I scoff. "At least pretend to be humble."

"That is being humble," He says matter-of-factly. 

I flip him off a singular card hiding the motion from Mrs. Huxley.

Mrs. Huxley laughs. "Don't mind him, he's a smartass sometimes, like his mother."

Eden's tenses it's so momentary you'd think it hadn't happened at all. 

If I remember correctly his Mom died when he was born. I wonder what that's like to never know your mother and to never have a chance. Somehow I think it could be worse than having a mother that's never around. 

I slap my first card onto the table ending the awkward pause. 

It works and the game starts. 

We settle into a comfortable chatter well me and Mrs. Huxley at least. Eden just listens, he seems perfectly content with it though, I've noticed that about him, he only talks when he needs to or is prompted to.

He's very precise in the way he plays, everything calculated, it's just how he is I think, calculated, not in a bad way, just in a way where you can tell he's very conscious of what he does, when he does it. 

He moves and behaves like if he makes one slip soldiers will barge in and take him to Area 51, not actually, but he really does seem to think a lot. 

It's curious.

I end up getting out, too quickly, and by too quick I mean not even 5 minutes into the game, I think they cheated. I just can't prove it.

I don't mind being out though, because I get to watch Mrs. Huxley and Eden interact, it's painfully cute watching them play, they have the same look of concentration, furrowed eyebrows, and narrowed eyes, the crinkle of their skin between their eyebrows is even the same though Mrs. Huxley's marks are more prominent.

Mrs. Huxley looks at Eden adoringly when he's not looking, it's a look full of love and care, it's like she can't believe he's there, as if he might disappear the second she looks away.

I hold up Becky freezing the moment in time.