THE ART OF BURNING

XII: GOLLY GEE!

[ ━━ ❝ ✧˚⋆｡☾✩˚⋆｡࿐❞ ━━ ]
CALLIE
(tw: brief mention of self harm)

            IT'S SEVEN IN THE MORNING and Maya is making pancakes.

            She's gone all out. The pancakes are her original recipe, sugary, thiccer than a bowl of oatmeal, and dyed hot pink with red food dye. She even has a bar of toppings ready on their island: syrup, butter, whipped cream, milk and white chocolate chips, blueberries, fresh strawberries. The smell is addictive, the sound of the batter cooking and Maya's spatula scraping the pan enticing, and yet no one's excited. Callie's not excited. It's seven in the morning.

            Maya's a morning person. Callie would be, too, if mornings happened around 3 PM. Callie doesn't even know why she's bothered making such an elaborate meal. The sun's already risen, so it's not like Maya can eat it.

            Aside from Maya, everyone's spread out at the kitchen table. The blonde, Meredith, and the knife guy, Cain, have both fallen back asleep, leaning into each other. Luca, Cain's dad, has his head in his arms, and Atlas, the short one, seems to be in a terminal state of yawn. Silas, the pretty black boy, is sitting up, at least, but he looks dog-tired. Callie's sitting beside her mom and her mom from a different dimension. She feels like she's in a shitty movie.

            No one's saying much of anything. Maya's happily humming some Spice Girls song while she flips pancakes. Callie rests her chin in the crook of her arm, watching her. In the early morning light, Maya looks glowy and dewy, like she's made of sunshine, radiating warmth and light. Callie thinks she loves her the most in moments like this.

            Not that she's forgiven her for waking her up at seven in the fucking morning. It's a Saturday, for God's sake! Their one day to sleep in!

            "Y'all like pancakes?" Maya asks, still humming.

            Cain's suddenly jolted into consciousness, sitting straight up in his seat, his arm raised like he's Hermione Granger answering a question in class. "I am NOT a Confederate soldier!" he declares before falling backwards in his chair and slamming his head into the ground. He groans, starts to sit up, then decides to stay there on the ground.

            "Good to know," Maya says to herself. "Doesn't the Confederacy like waffles?"

            "I like waffles," mumbles AU Dr. Terranova, Luca, half-asleep.

            It's weird having him here, real weird. Especially considering how different this man is from the one she's known for so many years. She knows that if she locked them in a room together, they'd end up nuking each other. And this AU version of her mom . . . she's so different from her actual mom, Callie hardly even recognizes her.