VISION ✔️ || The Keepers of Astraela #1

10.1 || Of Squirrels and Frying Pans

EVA

CLATTERING DISHES WOKE EVA from a dreamless sleep. She half expected to be back in her own bed, dozing with a book on her chest after a night of Darkness research. It made perfect sense that her reading would have induced a horrible dream of last night's events and she would find that her life was just as normal as it had always been.

Instead, she opened her eyes to meet the popcorn ceiling of Bobbi's living room.

Sizzling ingredients and hushed voices prodded Eva to consciousness. She turned over and smushed her face against the tweed throw pillow, fighting to return to her peaceful slumber. It was easier to ignore the night before while in a blanket cocoon, wrapped up warm and safe from her new reality.

"Will you knock it off?"

Bobbi's annoyed tone made Eva wrinkle her nose. If her best friend was upset, going back to sleep wasn't an option.

A yawn fought its way from her lips as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Wisps of memory tickled the edges of her consciousness, threatening to overwhelm her once again.

"Eva! You're awake!"

She grunted at the far-off sound. Though her friend had just harped on someone else, Bobbi's voice had spun to a chipper, more pleasant ring... one that Eva never appreciated until she'd had at least two cups of coffee.

Thankfully, the smell of a fresh brew kept her from muttering a grumpy response.

Eva pulled herself to her feet and ambled sleepily toward the adjoining kitchen, where Bobbi poured a tall mug of heaven. A familiar man, who sat at the kitchen island with his back to the living room, craned his neck with a smile.

"Morning, sunshine," he said, raising his own mug in greeting.

As Eva approached, her stomach constricted violently. She wanted to say good morning, but she wasn't sure how to properly address him.

The previous night, she had eyed him carefully after he'd dozed off in Bobbi's recliner—though she wasn't sure if it was from concern for his well-being or to keep tabs on his activity. But one thing was clear: when she fell asleep, Emrys had been the man in the easy chair.

Now, she was greeted by the same cerulean eyes that welcomed her to the library each morning.

Bobbi, however, seemed content with their current situation. Setting the mug of coffee on the counter, she gave Eva a smile before grabbing a nearby pan and filling two plates with scrambled eggs.

"Guess who looks less like roadkill today?" Bobbi said, nodding to their male counterpart.

Emrys laughed as she set a plate in front of him. He did look considerably better—and a hell of a lot more like Jensen. Apparently, he must've felt better as well, judging by the speed he shoveled food into his mouth.

It was a moment before Eva realized just how long she had lingered in the entryway, eyeing Emrys with piqued concern. He was too busy with his breakfast to notice, but Bobbi was never so easily fooled. Before her best friend could say anything, Eva slid onto the barstool beside Emrys'.

"What had you all worked up a few minutes ago?" she asked Bobbi, whose unrelenting stare paid her no favors.

Emrys mumbled something unintelligible through his mouthful of eggs. Before he could swallow, Bobbi interrupted.

"Oh, no." She placed the second plate in front of Eva. "I've heard enough out of you, fire boy. You already have the neighbors asking about all the ruckus last night and starting a rumor that I had a threesome."