The Arrival | The House of Voices #3

Fourteen - Agree

Agree

 

October:

I slept well for the first time in days.

It was a little strange waking up and feeling nothing but content. Remembering Kara’s words, I decided not to question it. Don’t question good things. Don’t question good things.

Sitting up, I glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was past eight in the morning. I listened carefully for the usual sounds of Ace bustling about downstairs, but couldn’t hear anything.

She and Spade had gone to bed late, maybe they were sleeping in.

Deciding to make breakfast for them, I crept out of the bed and into the shower. I was in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, making omelets. Ace walked into the kitchen just as I’d started on the first one, fully dressed in black jeans and a white tank top. She’d just started pulling her hair into a fishtail braid.

“Good morning,” She greeted me, standing by the kitchen entrance, one hip casually propped against the doorframe. “Are you usually and early riser or have you gotten used to our schedule?”

“A little bit of both,” I answered, pouring the egg into the hot pan. “How come you’re not in the gym today?”

“It’s a Saturday,” she replied distractedly, her attention was fixed on her hair. “Saturdays are meant for sleeping in.”

Something about the way she said it made me feel like it was something someone else said. Like me with Kara’s “don’t question good things”.

“Noted,” I snapped off a few basil leaves and tossed them onto the omelet. “Where’s Spade? Still sleeping?”

“Maybe,” Glancing over my shoulder, I saw her fingers deftly wind her hair into an immaculate braid. I wished my braids were that neat. “I banged on his door but he didn’t answer. Give it another hour or so.”

I laughed, about to ask her why she didn’t just go in and smack his cheeks like she did last night. But at the exact moment I opened my mouth to ask, someone bounded up the porch steps and stepped up to the kitchen.

Spade; In a loose fitting tank top and running shorts, his hair damp with sweat and chest heaving like he’d sprinted the entire block. I’d never seen him out of his form-fitting superhero t-shirts and jeans and, really, sweaty, out-of-breath Spade was a sight to behold.

Propping one arm against the doorframe, his dark eyes searched the room. I followed his gaze, wondering what he was looking for. Spotting Ace in the other corner, he turned to her and said “I want a tardis.”

I didn’t know what that was.

For a fraction of a second, Ace hesitated. Her fingers slipped and scrambled to get a hold of the strands of hair she’d been weaving into the braid – which was by her chin now. Slightly wide eyed, she took him in, gaze moving from the top of his head to the bottoms of his running shoes.

And then, as if the hesitation had never happened, she was back to normal.

“Nerd,” she shook her head at him.

If he’d noticed her slight hesitation, he didn’t acknowledge it. Spade just grinned as if that was exactly the reaction he’d been expecting. “I’m serious,” he said, not looking it.

“Yeah? I’ll see if I can work something out with the doctor,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest and flashing him a lopsided smile. “But only if you go shower and are back before the food October’s so kindly cooking for us gets cold.”