Perfection (Red Wrists 1 REWRITTEN EDITION)

Part Seventeen

(Emma)
I stared down at my plate, picking at my pile of breakfast foods. Tim sat next to me, giving people around the table annoyed scoffs and eye rolls to whatever questions they were battering him with. I would have enjoyed engaging in what seemed to be a very amusing conversation. However, my mind was stuck on last night's dream; or better yet, nightmare. The sight of my parent's mutilated bodies kept searing itself into my mind.

It wasn't how I remembered it. I didn't remember my parents dying such a horrible death. I didn't even remember that far back.

Letting out a sigh of discontent, I sat my fork back down onto the table. I shoved my chair away from the table, grabbing my plate and turning to Tim. "Hey," I breathed out, forcing a smile on my face, "where's the kitchen in this place? I think I'm done eating for now."

Tim's brows furrowed, taking a glance at my plate. "You hardly ate anything," he grumbled, glaring up at me from his seat. "Are you doing okay?"

Between my stressed out state of mind and a sleepless night of nightmares, I couldn't control my temper as I growled at him, "I'm doing just fine. Maybe mind your own damn business, Tim."

Sebastian had his seat at the head of the very long table. I hadn't realized just how many people were living in this house. The table was sized to fit at least fifty people from what I could tell, and Tim told me sometimes the residents here had to stand and wait for a chair to open up. Upon my ridiculous outburst, Sebastian cleared his throat. "Miss Emma, the door to the kitchen is right behind me if you'd like to sit your plate down." With my eyes still narrowed, I nodded in thanks and stomped off into the kitchen.

Once in the actual kitchen, finding the dish sink was a whole other story. I wandered around a bit, distracted by the bright industrial appearance of all the chrome counters, carts, and stations. This was definitely a kitchen built for a whole crew to run.

As I searched for the sink, a voice across the kitchen shouted, "Aww, didn't like my pancakes?" I stopped, blinking a bit to look around. Pax stood at the other side of the kitchen, slightly leaning himself over a hot pan on the stove, spatula safe in hand.

"It's not that," I laughed, my anger ebbing away. "Rough night is all, not really up to eating anything right now."

Pax chortled, covering his mouth as he giggled beneath his breath. "My gosh, what did Tim do to you last night?"

I stared blankly at Pax the Pancake man, not understanding the inside joke. "What?" was all I could muster up, making my way over to him.

I stood at Pax's side, watching the pancake batter bubble in the pan. With a little shrug, Pax continued, "I won a bet, is all. Once you started hanging around Tim again, everyone started betting something would go down between you two. Him bringing you here last night and I'm guessing annoying Sebastian enough to let you stay was proof enough for me to win the bet."

"Wait," I groaned, "You guys all had a bet as to whether or not Tim and I would be friends?"

Pax gave me a look, and I groaned even louder. "You all thought we'd me more than friends?"

His coy grin was all it took to know I was right. People thought Tim and I were becoming a couple or something along those lines. I shrugged, rubbing my neck in embarrassment. "No, no.... we're just friends, I think." I sighed, resting my hands on the counter next to the stove. "I mean, it's a weird off-and-on friendship with us lately. It's like he's a totally different person sometimes and I don't know why!"

"I get what you mean," he chuckled. "Everything's been weird lately, even weirder since you started talking to Tim again. It's not just you, Eemers."

I froze, flinching a bit. Eemers? I thought. That's what the grimm reaper kid in my dream called me in my dream last night. "What did you just call me?" I asked him, forcing a small laugh as I spoke.

Pax looked confused for a second before his eyes got wide. He sat down the spatula, resting his hands on either side of the pan as he blurted out, "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I-I was just trying out a nickname for you. I didn't mean to offend you." His face had gone pale, and his hands were clutched into fists.

He looked terrified.

Of me?

I shrugged, the name ringing in my skull in both his voice and the grimm reaper voice. "It's an okay nickname, Pax." I smiled slowly, pushing last night's dream to the back of my mind. "In fact, I've never really had a nickname before."

A smile etched itself across Pax's face for a moment before mumbling something under his breath. I leaned in to hear him better before Harper charged in through the kitchen door. "Bitch," he shouted, "what are you burning in here??" Pax and I looked down, seeing the charcoal black pancake sizzling away in the pan. Pax scoffed, turning off the stove and taking the pan over to the sink. He ran water over the burnt pancake, cooling it down enough to safely throw it in the trash.

"Sorry," Pax muttered, rubbing at his face. "It's been a long week, I just can't wait for the weekend to hit." 

Harper chuckled, smiling over at Pax and I. "It's been a long week for everybody, dude. Now get your butts moving. We're gonna be late to school!"

Pax groaned, but a smile still crossed his face. "Only if you walk to school with me, Harper. I'd much prefer your company today." Harper smiled back at Pax, raising his arm out for Pax to come over and take it. Which he did.

I laughed a little, following the two of them as they left the kitchen.