Cold Hearted

Chapter Six

His smell surrounded me. I curled into the blankets further, thankful for the black curtains blocking out the sun.

Everett's bed had a scent like cologne and clean laundry mixed into one sweet smell.

I inhaled deeply, smashing my face into the pillow. I exhaled, my breath warming up the black pillow case. A loud snore erupted from Everett, who was sprawled out across the futon.

He didn't snore this bad in the hotel room. Maybe he was uncomfortable.

I rolled onto my side, peering across the room at him. Suddenly, the door opened, and I quickly shut my eyes. I wasn't sure why I was pretending to be asleep, but I didn't want whoever it was to make me get up.

"Everett," I heard a soft voice say, and I knew it was Mrs. Sanders.

"Mom? What?" a sleep-filled voice called back after a few seconds.

Oh my.

I tried to ignore how amazing Everett sounded when he had just woken up. His mother shushed him, warning him of waking me.

"Let Emma sleep, she's had a busy two days. But it's Tuesday, so that means it's your turn to make breakfast. Rider and Danni want waffles, if you're up for it," Mrs. Sanders whispered.

I heard a quiet grunt, and then Everett agreed to cook. The door shut quietly, leaving me alone in his room.

My eyes popped open and I took in my surroundings. The curtains blocked out a lot of sunlight, but some peeked through. The dimly lit room looked like something out of a movie with all of the paper cranes.

I stood up from the bed, stretching a little to get my blood flowing.

Then I spotted a small collection of four photos framed on his desk. I walked over and began to look at them. I picked up the first one.

It was Everett and a man who looked like he could be his father. They stood in a forest, arms wrapped around each other. Everett didn't look older than seven. The second one was him and his mother at the yellow and brown kitchen table, but in a different house.

The third was of Everett and another boy who looked the same age as him. They were in swim trucks and smiled big at the camera. The other boy had ice cream smeared around his mouth.

The final one was of Everett, who looked the same now, and a girl. She had long red hair and green eyes. She had a million freckles, and glasses that framed her face. They were grinning at each other and their hands were clasped together.

"What are you doing?" I heard a voice call. I jumped, the picture frame dropping out of my hands and landing face down on the desk.

I quickly picked it up, realizing I had cracked the glass.

"Oh my god Everett, I'm so sorry," I said, trying to put the picture frame back where I had found it. But it was ripped from my hands by an angry boy.

Everett's cold, green eyes pierced through me. I felt frozen, too ashamed to move.

"There's breakfast downstairs. I suggest you put on some pants and go get some," he growled and I realized that all I had on was my small t-shirt and my pair of pink lace panties.

My face had never been redder.

--

"How are you holding up, dear?" Mrs. Sanders asked. I stared down at the waffles before me. They sat upon a beige and dark brown plate that looked expensive.

"I'm fine, just worried about my mom," I muttered, shoveling a bite of Everett's waffles in my mouth. They were divine.

Speaking of the Grim Reaper, he sat at the kitchen island on a bright blue stool. He was back to his dark and brooding self. None of the compassion from last night was present, and I earned myself death glares whenever he caught me staring.