Luke
I stare at the 8 missed calls from Jace on my phone as the doctor runs an examination on Tori. "Jace? What-"
"Is she okay?!" He asks, frantic. "Tori's fine. Thanks for asking about my well being too." I reply sarcastically. "What went wrong? And where are you two?"
"We're at the hospital right now. She had a serious allergic reaction, but the symptoms are almost completely gone. We'll be back in an hour or so. The doctor just needs to finish his examination."
He sighs in relief. "That's great to hear. I'll be waiting."
"Yeah. And do us a favour and make breakfast?" Now that all the adrenaline's gone, I'm starving. "Sure thing." He replies. I put the phone down to hang up when he adds, "Oh, and hope you're alright too?"
"I'm just fine, mom." I snicker. "Should've never asked." He hangs up and I can imagine the way he must've rolled his eyes. Now that I think about it, he can kind of be a mom sometimes. That aside, the doctor finally steps out of Tori's room. "Is everything okay?" I ask. "Yes, the young lady is out of harm's way and ready to go home. Just be sure she doesn't ingest anything with almonds here on out, and nothing that will stress her digestive system for a few days." He looks kind of afraid with a hint of traumatized.
"Thank you, doctor." He leaves to hit on some nurse who looks like she'll punch him in the face any second. I go back in to see Tori looking like she can also punch someone any second now. "Tori, I hope that doctor didn't try anything..." I can feel a flame ignite in my chest at the thought of something like that happening to her. "You should ask him what I did instead." She flips her hair. That explains the traumatized expression. Poor guy.
"If you're ever stuck or faced with something like that and you can't defend yourself, you know my name." She looks at me, squinting her eyes. Her intense gaze of scrutiny is unnerving and can make anyone feel practically interrogated. Some of the other patients at the HSA used to say it felt like she was learning everything about them like downloading a file just by staring. Not to mention she gave the very first therapist that was assigned to her PTSD. And with the HSA being the biggest and most widespread rehab and mental wellness centre in the country, she sure gave a lot of people a run for their money. "I'm hungry, and tired of this place. Let's go." She walks past me. "You don't like hospitals very much, do you?" I ask as we get in the car. "I don't like anywhere very much." She's as aloof as she'll ever be. She leans on the door and stares out of the window as we drive home. She has a habit of doing that. I think it's kind of cute the way she wistfully gazes outside. Come to think of it, she's the most peaceful when she's looking out the window.
Historiah
By the time we're in front of the gates, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla blows past my nose with the wind. My feet move on their own, leading me through the kitchen door, and there he is. Tall, tanned and sweet, making waffles with the scent of a paradise. He turns around and smiles upon seeing me. "Look who survived Luke's carelessness." He approaches me and pulls me into a hug. "Welcome home, Cupcake." Home? Home. I don't have a single memory of ever calling somewhere home. "I'm glad you're okay." He pulls away. "I made you waffles." He gestures towards the tall stack on the counter. "Yeah," I can feel my lips start to tug into a small smile. "I can see that." My voice is still a bit raspy from my throat swelling.
"I figured it'd be better than sitting on a table alone and struggling to breathe." Luke shoots him a look that can curdle milk. "Can you not?"
"Of course I won't." He turns back to flip a waffle with the precision of a pro. Even though it's just waffles. "Because to a certain extent, it was my fault too. I should have asked about you, but we all got carried away. I'm sorry." His head is down, and his shoulders drooped. "What do you mean all?"
"Pardon?" He clears his throat, eyes meeting Luke's.
"You said we all got carried away, instead of we both did. Who was with you two?" I ask, eyebrows raised. They look at each other, communicating with their eyes.
And they say they aren't close.
I breathe heavily and sit at the island. "Just give me something to eat." Relief washes over them like they got away with hiding a body. But who knows? Rich people do crazy things. He serves a tall stack, topped with cream that looks like a cloud, strawberries, and of course, blueberries. "You should go pro with these skills." I feel it melt in my mouth. "I don't cook for just anyone, you know." He sits behind his own plate. "Just cute strangers Luke brings to our super-secret house in the woods."
"Grandpa Vanya would chew my head off." Luke snickers.
"I'd get it worse." Jace shakes his head. Sitting in this kitchen makes me realise just how cold the hospital was. Luke hands us all cups of hot cocoa. "Now, this is something I can proudly make." He brags, fists on his waist. Jace claps softly. "Well done, Gordon Ramsay."
"And you two claim to hate each other." They both look at me, then turn to themselves. "Of course we do." Luke frowns. "I can never have anything to do with this idiot." Jace folds his arms. Something about that amuses me, and laughter escapes my lips. But I don't even realise I was laughing until I open my eyes and see them both staring at me like I my skin is blue. "What?" I ask. "Jace, pinch me." Luke stares, eyes still on me.
"I can even punch you in the face."
"Damn, we should've filmed that in 8k." Luke runs his hands through his tussled hair. "I knew I should've learned photography!" Jace looks like he failed a job interview.
"Tori, hold on." He quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Do that again, but facing the window, so there's a sun-kiss effect."
"That is so not happening." I turn my attention back to my waffles. They both sigh deeply and sit back down. Sitting on this island, while watching these two bicker, looking at the view of the forest, eating sweets and desserts, feeling warmth and learning about each other. This must be what a home looks like.
Can I really call it my home?