Rainy Days

Chapter Sixteen: Sunday

[jordans house–sunday, late morning]

THE BOYS stop arguing when Jordan appears in the kitchen.

"Jordan, settle this debate: waffles are better than coffee." Klaus said this as if that was a proven fact.

"Hard choice, but I'm going with coffee." said Jordan as he took a seat at the kitchen table. It was only meant to hold four, and at the moment, held Diego, Ben, Five, and Luther. Klaus was seated on the counter, same spot as Friday, happily eating Eggos.

Well, until Jordan said coffee. Klaus gasped in mock hurt.

"Thank you!" Five said, Ben nodding next to him.

Diego and Klaus rolled their eyes. "Okay, but coffee just makes you feel awake. Waffles? They're poetry." Klaus declared.

Luther blinked. "What?" He said, confused. Klaus stuck out his tongue and chomped obnoxiously loud on the Eggo.

"You heard me, Luthie."

"Please shut up," said Luther, looking pained and embarrassed. He then turned to Jordan, who was digging in the fridge for an apple. (Anything healthy, really, anything to distract him from the grumbling in his stomach and from that fucking pack of Eggos.)

"Where's Allison?" Luthie asked.

"With Vanya." Jordan said, finally discovering a pear. He washed it and took a bite, loving it. He's almost forgotten how good it felt to not feel fat. Everyone nodded and accepted his statement.

"How is a waffle poetry, Klaus?" Ben asked, sipping a mug of tea. Everyone turned to the boy, waiting as he thought of a way to back up his previous statement.

"Waffles are sweet and crisp, made with love—when from the right person. They have a special aura about them, and their smell is irresistible. You can douse them in syrup, cover them with whipped cream, disguise them with fruit, but underneath all the hiding it's still a plain old waffle. And the waffle is okay with that."

No one says anything.

Luther started laughing. Soon, Five and Ben join in; Diego giggled quietly and Jordan smiles into his pear. Klaus crosses his arms.

"Laugh at me all you like! Five, Jordan, Ben, what's your excuse for liking coffee better?"

"Habit," Five shrugged. Ben agreed with Five.

"Helps me stay awake," Ben adds. Klaus snorts.

"Weak argument. Pathetic! Jordan, please tell me you've got something else?" Klaus was practically pleading with him, and because Jordan felt bad for waking him up so early because of his nightmare (that had to do with a butterfly, he was sure. But how?) he decided to go down the route Klaus did.

Poetic and stupid and laughable.

"Coffee is poetic too. Maybe a little more than waffles, because coffee is a drug. So many people drink coffee worldwide—400 million people in the United States alone—and yet we ignore everything until we have that sweet little fix clasped in our cold hands. We hide it too; mask the bitter flavor with milk and sugar and creamer, sometimes even with drinks completely different, but it's there. And we drink it to stay awake, so we can get to school or to work on time. But others drink it so they stay awake long enough to outrun the nightmares.

"And also coffee is just pretty fucking good." Jordan said, his face hot as everyone stared. Slowly, Klaus clapped for him. Then, he hopped off the counter, wiped away fake-tears, and placed both hands on his shoulders.

"Jordan whatever-the-fuck-your-last-name-is, you've moved me. But not enough." He grabbed the waffles and cackled. "Waffles are better!"

Everyone rolled their eyes and separate conversations started—Luther and Klaus talking about waffles (cute), Diego and Five talking about knives (concerning?) and Ben and Jordan smiling and enjoying their respective tea and pear, each mildly aware that they didn't belong.

~{}~

While the Waffle / Coffee debate happened between the boys, Allison sat upstairs. She was quiet, listening to everything and nothing.

"Hey," she said, voice cracking. "So, I'm sorry. About what Luther and the others did. And that I...that I let them do it. But you can't be mad at them. Or, you can, but you can't destroy the world. Or Jordan's house."

She laughed humorlessly. "You know, I forgive you. For almost killing me. It's okay. I probably—no, I did deserve it. But it's fine now. I'm all better, yeah? So...you can wake up now. And stay awake." Allison choked on her words and sighed, pulling her legs closer to her. "Please. You're my only sister."

Vanya rolled over, her face sweat-soaked. Drool trailed from her mouth, and her hand fell over the side of the air mattress. Allison chuckled and took it in her own.

On the bag, the butterfly twitched.

[the commission–time unknown]

"If you want to go back early, Park, then you need to do better."

Park sneered, their auburn hair falling into their pure black eyes. "Sorry, I'm not usually sent into the damn past! Their powers keep on interrupting."

"Figure out a way to keep the connection. Or else, your sister might not come back from that mission."

Park growled, sharp fangs on show, and then closed their eyes. After a breath, they went through the door.

The Handler sighed and pressed a button. "Send Park some water, will you?"

"Of course."

She sighed and leaned back, rubbing her temples. Damn those Hargreeves!

A/N:
Sorry this chapter is so short and boring :/
I'm changing my updating schedule because I got a job lol. I'm going to update Thursdays in the morning now, but Mondays will stay the same for now.
I hope you enjoyed it despite the shortness/boringness, and that you have a wonderful day!!