“Mm. Give me… twelve more.”
“If you don’t get up on your own, I’ll be carrying you to the table.”
Ugh.
Ugh, ugh, ugh.
He will, too. I know he will.
Ughhhhh.
“You’re being annoying,” I complain, rolling out of bed.
“So annoying to make sure you’re fed and taken care of,” he deadpans. “Yes.”
“You were supposed to stop this,” I remind him. “As part of your character development bit.”
He hums. “Growth is a journey that includes steps back among the steps forward.”
Uh huh. In other words: he forgot he was trying to be a better person.
“Have you tried dangling a carrot in front of your face?” I ask. “To keep you moving forward.”
“I’ll keep that option in mind,” he snorts. “For now, let’s go. Food is getting cold. Carrot cake is going stale.”
Ugh, ugh,ugh.
“That bad, huh?” Lyra asks when I manage to drag myself to the table—a small, wooden thing covered in carvings of planets and stars. It didn’t used to be carved up, but Jove is a bit of an artist. At some point between now and the last time I saw this table in June, a glass top has been added to protect the mural.
I fall into an old, worn-in seat with a grunt. “I was having a very nice dream before Grumpy Pants McMeanie Head came and woke me up. There were biceps. And triceps. And shoulders. Andbackmuscles.” I fan myself, fluttering my eyes at my cousin before glancing pointedly at Jove. “You know anything about all of that, Ly-ra?”
Jove blinks at me as a blush takes over Lyra’s face, and I wink. “Got her blushing for you, big man! You’re welcome!”
He blinks again. “I don’t really need any help in that department.” He pauses, then, “Thank you.”
I sigh. Woken from my nap just to be underappreciated. It figures.
“Stop being rude to our hosts,” Roman bosses, taking a seat next to me.
“Hosts,” I scoff. “That’s my family. It’s no different than you picking on Will and Ruby.”
“I don’t pick on Will and Ruby,” he huffs. “That’s you, too.”
Hmm.
“Don’t you have food to feed us or something? Thatiswhat you dragged me out here for, yes?”
He raises a maybe-amused brow at me, then rolls his eyes. “Yes, I have food to feed you, little brat.” He gestures to the veritable buffet in the middle of the table, pointing at items and making all our mouths water. “Spring rolls, rice, chicken katsu, California rolls, cucumber salad, miso soup, and crispy tofu.” He clears his throat. “There’s some sliced melon for dessert. It’s slightly out of season, but it looked good. Ice cream, too.”
So. Maybe it was worth him waking me up for. I guess.
He tugs on one of my curls. “Wish I’d let you sleep?”
I stick my nose in the air and shrug. “I guess this is fine.”
“This looks incredible,” Lyra says. “And all the sauces!”
“Cover your eyes,” I tell Roman as Lyra reaches for the four different homemade sauces scattered throughout the serving dishes. “Don’t watch.”
