BLACK

(42) Goodbyes

"Noelle."

"Noire."

"Noelle!"

"Noire!"

"... Christmas."

My little sister crosses her arms, a smug look in her face. "Black."

I grimace. "Fine. Can I brush my teeth first, please?"

Her small, white teeth make an appearance worthy of angels. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Ok." She says quickly. "But you have to do it right now." She pulls on my arm with all her might, trying her hardest to drag me off the edge of the bed.

"Five more minutes," I begin to mumble, closing my eyes.

"No!" She exclaims, pulling on my arm again.

As her efforts are futile, I pretend to snore. Noelle drops my arms, slowly making movements up the bed and begins to pull my eyelids up. A Cheshire grin splits my lips once I scoop up her body, tossing her onto the bed beside me where I cover her in tickles. She shrieks with laughter, screaming at me and I only stop when my splitting headache begins to make another appearance.

"Okay," I say breathily. "Up time."

She follows me into Rosalia's bathroom, stepping over her dirty laundry to make a pathway inside. I take my new toothbrush from the cup in the side and layer on the paste. Noelle rolls open a drawer, pulling out her own kid sized toothbrush.

"I brush my teeth in here when Pierre's taking too long," She explains at my questioning gaze.

"Oh. She doesn't mind?" I ask.

"She doesn't know. She's never home." Noelle says as she squeezes the paste onto her own.

I frown. "Is she home right now?"

"No."

I hum in response, sticking the brush into my mouth and slowly count to intervals of ten. At elbow height, I watch Noelle concentrate deeply in the mirror in her teeth. Thirty seconds in and she begin foaming, leaning over the sink to spit some out. I try to keep a straight face, but end up spitting out my own in laughter at her struggles. I tilt her chin to guide her, but it's no use.

Eventually we finish, rinsing and patting our mouths, grinning at one another. Noelle guides me by hand into her room, and I follow her around as she shows me all of her cool things. Unfortunately, she's a bit of a hoarder. She still has toys from when she was three on the shelves and under her bed. I think it's pretty cool that her room is royal blue. Most girls her age would have pink walls, and though Noelle loves her toy dolls, she says the blue relaxes her.

I chat with Noelle about school and her artwork a bit longer until a shout from downstairs arises. "Girls! Breakfast!"

My headache bounces again, taking twice as long to settle as I follow after Noelle down the stairs. The kitchen was busier, maybe? It really was nothing new as I replaced Rosalia and Oren replaced Jean. Without Rosalia's phone I wasn't sure how she left, but she found a way. She always would.

"Noe, sauce me the toast." Pierre calls her attention away from me immediately.

I notice Dad and Oren sitting at opposite ends of the table. Not my favourite, but I'd never really had a mate over for breakfast anyways. I'd appreciate as much as I could get at this point. Everything was already set on the table, Mom over Dad's shoulder as she filled up his plate like she always did. I took my seat at the end of the table, parallel to Dad but beside Oren.