Spellsong

Breakfast

This is a crappy chapter I'm using as a crappy filler for a transition I've been trying to figure out for months now. Please hold while the more interesting plot is developed. Thank you to those who still actually care!

He was in a golf cart. And from her vantage point in the balcony on the second floor, as the wheels of the bright green cart spun against the side of a pink flowering bush, it looked like he was having a heck of a time maneuvering it through all the shrubbery. It was obvious from his facial expression- which she could clearly see even from the second floor how difficult this was for him. Not to mention the string of curses that floated up through her window.

That was actually what had woken her up. Rolling out of bed to see what the crap was making such an awful sound, she'd shuffled out to the balcony to observe. Brianna now found she had a few new particularly nasty expletives to add to her vocabulary.

When he finally managed to park the golf cart, (or rather, pull up against a brick wall and call it good when the fender sort of caved in with a sickening crunch) the man in the rumpled blue and white striped polo shirt stumbled out of his seat and began to make his way up the front porch. His auburn hair was slicked back, but whether that was an intentional style choice or he had just been sweating profusely, it was unclear.

Brianna, arms crossed as she leaned out over the railing, watched as he produced a slim phone from his pocket and began to dial. Stopping just below her balcony, so that she could still see the top of his manicured locks, he raised the phone to his ear.

"Mrs. Wright?" His voice carried up to Brianna as she leaned over the railing. "Yeah its Aaron. No, I'm still at the press conference... Oh...? You can... see me from the kitchen window. Heh heh, I was joking of course!... yeah, yeah, I'll be there. Thanks. Bye."

He hung up and stuck the phone in the back pocket of his khaki shorts. Then he took a small step backwards and craned his neck upwards at Brianna.

"Morning!" He called. Brianna stiffened, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. He wasn't even surprised to see her eavesdropping. He'd known she was there the whole time.

"... Morning," she responded after a pause.

"You're Brianna," the man said, teeth flashing in the sunlight.

"Yeah," she said. "Who are you?"

"Straight to the point. I like that! Name's Aaron. Aaron Ellington. I'll be in the house in a sec, if you'd like to meet me and my wife over breakfast."

Brianna blinked and opened her mouth, then closed it.

"You... you're the dude who owns this place?" She asked, struggling to collect her thoughts.

"Yup," Aaron responded, wiping a hand across his brow. He opened his arms and gestured around. "Bienvenue dans mon humble demeure."

Brianna just stared down at the man, mouth slightly ajar.

Laughing, he clarified, "welcome to my home. Let me go clean up and grab Ellie and we'll talk. I'm starving. See you in a bit, Brianna!"

And with a cheerful little wave, the man disappeared below the balcony, his footsteps against the concrete steps echoing as he entered the house through the giant front door below, just out of Brianna's sight.

Brianna shook her head and withdrew into her room.

There was a knock at her door.