Living and Lying

Frozen

"Why order when you have my infamous cooking expertise?" I said, grinning from ear to ear as I dangle a pan off my hands.

It's quarter to seven in the morning right now. We've been up for quite some time already. Perhaps an hour or less.

Not to mention how seeing no signs of Deann C. swarming around the house made me wind down a bit.

"Please, Kimmy. You almost gave everyone stomach flu the last time you made a meal." Samantha said, grabbing the pan off my hand.

I gave her a lone face and didn't respond any longer as I crossed my arms. I don't want to feel any more guilt having to be the reason of their day's demise that time.

"Okay, everybody. Leave this problem to me. You know I could get you on your knees with this baby." Damien said, running his hand all over his half-naked body with a cheeky grin. He often likes to get morning workouts; he'd been jogging off so early in the morning then walks around the house shirtless after. We had gotten used to it.

I laughed as I said, "That's so not going to work." I shudder jokingly, "cringe, Dame."

Damien lightly punches me in the arm and chuckled.

"'Kay," Damien chimed as he rubbed his hands together, "Why don't you two sit back and chill, while I prepare your holy breakfast, mademoiselles" Damien took an exaggerated bow.

"Alright, chef. You got to make it quick. I'm hangry." I said, my eyes attempting to be the boss of him.

"No problemo." Damien whistled happily as he took the pan from Sam now, and pulled out different stuff from the cabinet and the fridge. I smiled at him as I took off to sit in the living room.

Damien's a pretty great cook. His food's flawless. He's got God's hands for some reason when he's preparing meals... And it's pretty much why we're friends.

"So, have any of you seen the all hail Deann C.?" Samantha asked.

"Ugh. Don't get me started" I said, rolling my eyes.

Samantha raised an eyebrow.

"I saw her took off before I went out to jog." Damien inserts himself.

"What did she say?" Sam asked.

"None. Princess took off as if I wasn't there. Looked like she was going to be gone for some time, she looked... very dressed." Damien spoke as he worked his way in the kitchen, glancing at us for a brief moment.

There was a sigh that followed as he muttered, "... as always."

As I flopped myself down on the soft beige sofa, I muttered, "Wish she'd never come back."

I feel a pair of eyes peering at me. Few minutes pass by and it was still there. I groaned and looked at Samantha, "What Sam?"

"You don't mean that. You are clearly not the type to let go nagging questions that have been left unanswered. Don't you still wanna know the real reason why she's here?" She asked, giving me an expectant look.

I do. But I am just so not in the mood to deal with that narcissistic bitch. Who was she anyway? Acting so high and glorious. Like a princess. Yes, a princess, just like what Damien said. She's not even one. Who tells her she could be one?