The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Twenty Seven - Better

Better

October:

When I woke up the next morning, Parish was still fast asleep. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I regarded him carefully, too lazy to actually lift my head off the bed. I had to move a little because his fingers were right in front of my face, but when I tilted my head upwards, I noticed that he’d shifted in his sleep and his head and lolled over to the right, angled in such a way that, if he hadn’t been sleeping, anyone would have thought he was looking at the bedside table.

Yawning, I decided that I should probably wake up and made the worst decision of my life by straightening up too soon. “Ouch!” I cried out in pain, wincing at how sore my back and neck were. I probably would have been better off sleeping on the floor. Or on an air mattress. “Ouch, ouch.”

Parish didn’t stir. That sleeping spell must have been an incredibly strong one if he could sleep through all the noise I was making. Maybe those cards helped.

Moving stiffly, I got out of the chair I’d slept in and over to the dressing table where I grabbed a change of clothes for myself. I crept into the bathroom, brushed my teeth and then dragged my sore body into the shower. I stood under the spray of the hot water for a long time until some of the tension and soreness in my back muscles was relieved. The stiffness and soreness didn’t completely go away, but I supposed it was the best I could hope for right now.

When I emerged from the bathroom fully dressed almost half an hour later, Parish was still fast asleep. I brushed my hair and tied it up in a loose ponytail before heading downstairs.

I couldn’t find Ace anywhere. I looked in the kitchen and the den and even ventured into the library and the front of the shop, but she was nowhere to be seen. I was very close to checking their boss’ office when I heard a loud creak come from near the staircase. I ran down the corridor and arrived just in time to see Ace appearing out of a door behind the staircase that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Hey, you’re awake!” She said as soon as she saw me. She was clad in a figure hugging tank top and exercise pants and was drenched in sweat, a towel draped around her shoulders. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early, or I’d have had breakfast ready. I’ll shower real quick and be down in fifteen.”

With that, she ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. I decided not to wait for her and went into the kitchen. By the time she came back down, I was piling pancakes onto plates.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I normally wake up earlier in the mornings and workout in the basement, but I kinda overslept this morning and you know, things happened—Oh my God,” she breathed, halting in her tracks. She’d changed into black jeans and dark blue chiffon shirt that she’d left un-tucked. “You made breakfast? You didn’t have to do that!”

“It’s no big deal,” I told her, putting the plates down on the table. She moved over to the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. “I didn’t make any for Spade because I assumed he’d be at classes, right?”

“Right,” she said, pouring two glasses of juice and brining them over to the table. “Thanks so much for this,” she said, gesturing towards the food. “It was really nice of you.”

“And it was really nice of you to take care of us the way you have these past three days, so maybe we can call it even.”

“’Kay,” She grinned and sat down. A few minutes passed before she looked at me again. “Back problems?” She’d noticed me wincing.

“Slept a little funny last night,” I admitted, stabbing at my pancakes.

She narrowed her eyes at me for a second before comprehension dawned. “Oh no. You slept in the chair, didn’t you?”