End of Sallow

No grave can hold my body down

CW: Glossed over smoots, gore, violence, torture, death.

I'm sorry about the length of the chapter.

"Fuck," he muttered, picking up the handle of the pan and bringing it over to the sink, refusing to panic. He couldn't even see the bacon that he'd been cooking considering the whole flat of the pan was engulfed in fire. He quickly put it in the sink and turned on the water.

The water seemed to piss off the flame more than anything, the flame fwooping bigger and higher than before so that the flame seemed to almost lick at his own face, along with the wall and ceiling of the kitchen.

Okay, now he was panicking. Wasn't water supposed to stop fire?

He yanked his wand free and pointed it at the flames, quickly casting the extinguishing spell, watching the fire disappear completely. His heart was pounding in his chest, and only then did he smell that awful burning smell that had overtaken the kitchen and possibly the rest of the house.

He heard a throat clear and turned to look at Charlie, whose brows were raised in a silent, yet amused, quesiton.

"I... It caught fire and water didn't... It wouldn't..."

Why hadn't the water worked in the first place? He was trying his best to never use magic in the kitchen again and here on day one, he'd had to use it, even if the food had already been unsavable.

"Water doesn't help a grease fire, Theo." Charlie told him, obviously trying not to laugh at him.

"I see that now," he nodded seriously, taking note.

"What on earth were you trying to cook?" Charlie finally laughed, though it was still restrained.

"Bacon."

"Theo, you're quite talented. I don't think dad had even messed up bacon."

"I get it, I'm bad at this," he sighed, running a hand through his hair and realizing how warm it was. How close had he come to losing his hair? Or his eyebrows?

"You're new to this." She corrected. "Don't worry, we'll turn you into a chef in no time. We'll just start with the basics."

"Is bacon not basics?" He asked flatly.

"Don't ask questions," Charlie said, laughter still in her voice. With a wave of her hand, the dishes began to wash themselves and then she went and got more bacon, a new pan, and began to work. She looked at him and whatever expression he had on his face, her eyes seemed to soften. "If it makes you feel better, I can't paint."

"Anyone can paint," he snorted, leaning against the counter to see what she was doing.

"Sure, anyone can pick up a paintbrush and give it some strokes, but not everyone can create what you can."

He smirked at her seemingly unintentional word play, holding back a comment about a paintbrush he had that she could stroke. He didn't need Sebastian walking in on him saying that.

He watched as she worked, and the bacon was already smelling delicious. It sizzled and spit like it should have, and he frowned.

"Why did mine catch fire? I did the exact same thing."

"How high was the heat?" Charlie asked.

"That matters? I thought it'd cook faster, I'm hungry."

Charlie was already laughing again, and Theo couldn't help but smile. She was so happy and carefree this morning, and it was contagious.