𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍; pancakes

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          𝐓he first frown appears when finding the main door of her home unlocked. The second blossoms by the unnatural sight of her older sister waltzing around in the kitchen.

"You hungry?"

The shock robs Marlowe of all words. While removing her shoes, her lips part and the unmistakable frown still yanks on her features. 

Evelyn raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're making..." she drifts off, letting her nostrils capture the sweet smell embracing the entire first floor. "Pancakes?"

Her sister turns back to the batter in the frying pan, scraping the underneath of it to flip it over. She doesn't face her. "Yeah. Hungry?"

"Sure..." Marlowe hesitates, eyeing the brunette carefully. "You okay?"

"I can't make pancakes without you thinking I'm going crazy?" she responds, growing annoyed at her younger sister's skepticism. "Sit down."

A warm feeling dares her to smile. She chuckles breathily, "if you insist."

Although hesitant about her sister's startling change of attitude, she chooses to savor the light atmosphere. It won't hurt pretending everything's okay, even if it's just for a moment.

"I'm heading out later," Marlowe strikes a conversation. "Promised Pope I'd help him with his dad's deliveries."

"They'll be home tonight, though," Evelyn reminds her, evidently referring to their parents. She passes her sister a couple of plates and some cutlery, encouraging her to set the table from where she's sitting.

Marlowe takes the hint. "I know," she assures.

"Means you need to start coming home," the oldest sibling points out.

The girl observes her, attempting to make out where her sister's mindset is at. She threads cautiously, not wanting the rare moment to be wrecked already. She clears her throat, "I know." 

"I mean, of course, they'll be home for Midsummers," Evelyn mutters while placing the plate stacked with food on the wooden table.

"You going?" Marlowe questions. "It's just... you didn't show up last year, so..."

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃, jj maybankWhere stories live. Discover now