Chapter Text
An indigo field.
Winged violets cascaded throughout the air.
Vines and nettles grappled against weathering stones, leaves scattered under the catch of the teeming wind like discordant fishes thrown erratic under a sudden intrusion, and the sun’s rays assiduously severed the clouds to let light shine through.
The entourage had arrived, welcomed by the first light of the morning. Yet, although they all wandered throughout the scene, the light paid close attention to a curious little girl.
It pecked against the girl’s hair, then brushed against her face, then laughed at her expression of pure dumbfoundment after she winced and looked around. Four-year-olds could be rather daft at times, and the hues were thoroughly enjoying it. They loved her.
Upon looking into the light, the girl was enraptured. The sight was beautiful.
A soft pitter patter began to echo in her ear, before revealing its true form: her brother, following closely behind with a spring in his step. His gaze was taken aback; awe and wonder had incited him.
“Woah…”
The little girl turned her head, and nodded to herself slowly with the tiniest smile. She never was one for animated gushing cues of excitement, or vibrant zeal. Everyone around her, therefore, knew that if something was able to make her crack a smile- even subtly- that something was fallacious, phantasmal.
Her brother soon caught sight of her expression. As if on cue, he looked around to see the butterflies she had seen, and was soon gawking at once: stars were beaming in his eyes.
“T-That’s so cool, isn’t it?” he breathed.
In benign agreement, his younger sister grabbed onto her brother’s hand, and squeezed it almost by instinct. Her brother seemed shocked. Although, he truly didn’t mind, tightening the grip.
Butterflies fluttered around them. They nested into the boy’s hair, causing him to giggle at that funny feeling- and they teemed all over his younger sibling, pecking her arms, hair, shoulders… causing her brother to laugh at her. She didn’t mind, though- the butterflies were really pretty.
For a moment, it was only the two of them. The younger girl, clutching onto her older brother; and her brother: the one who allowed his little sister to tug his hand.
The two of them stared at the many butterflies that streamed around the graveyard. They were aghast.
---
The girl from that scene had dreamt up half the butterflies as a result of the thresholds of childhood amnesia, because- back then- she was four, her brother eight. Now, the memory had ruminated in her head, amplified, and was now more and more distorted from the years that went on. One thing remained clear, however: that day, there were siblings, butterflies… and the setting: Faraway Cemetery.
---
Waking up early just sucked. Honestly, screw that notion.
Her brother was an early bird, however… he’d always be up at stupid hours for whatever reason: reading something, studying, or texting Abbi at stupid o’ clock in the morning (She wasn’t that big of a fan of the lovey dovey nonsense that her brother liked… but it wasn’t her that wanted to rip her hair out at the sight: it was Mari. Since her brother’s relationship was a match made in heaven, her opinion was wrong. Bite the bullet, Mari).
However, there was a much more pressing problem in the present than her brother’s whimsical love life.
Ambrosia Smith rolled over in her bed. She was 11, with thick, chestnut-brown hair that usually fell just below her shoulders, yet presently sprawled about her pillow. Her eyes were also a soft amber colour- but she was named before she was born, so it was all a coincidence that her eyes matched her name.
Furthermore, the sheer unwillingness to wake up which played around in her head was just beautiful, iridescent, yearning... the power was too strong. The dream she had had was based around one of her fondest memories, too- the one where butterflies shrouded her and fluttered about as she stood with her brother in the cemetery, bewitched by excitement and awe…
It was a complete juxtaposition to those hands trying to shake her awake. Those were imprudent and foolhardy.
“Come on, little sister…” the voice whispered, lacklustre of any ill-advised brashness and lacklustre of unnecessarily gentle qualms, so it hadn't snapped yet, “I made everyone tofu this morning… I’ve saved you some, but it’s getting cold!”
Tofu was an irresistible temptation: it was her favourite food ever. Furthermore, it wasn’t Kim or Basil yelling at her for once, so the inclination was even stronger. She was also slightly hungry… so that plea did seem to be a good decoy…
Yet, her dream…
“Amber!” came a shrilled sternness, one that knocked her out of her thoughts at once, “You know, Basil’s been waiting for you to water the flowers with him since the morning… You don’t want him mad, do you?”
No, of course not.
“-and, don’t forget the guests we’ve got later! We’re going to need all the hands we can get, e-even if you don’t like helping out.”
An energetic sternness followed through every word as the voice spoke. Then, it’s breathing hitched as it let out a sigh, tiredly. But it was after this where it was enlightened.
“...Oh? Hey, I think they’ve just arrived!”
A muffled groan came from the girl, followed by the clap of hands- tight breathing- and the excited voice of the one who was way too energetic for 10 in the morning.
“That’s amazing! I missed them so much, Amber! Let’s head out then, yeah? You wouldn’t want to leave Mari waiting at the door!”
This response caused Amber to groggily raise her upper body, before whipping her pillow straight into her lap and burying her face in it. The voice, however, stifled a chuckle.
“Well c’mon then- they haven’t travelled all this distance just to recline in the living room and then leave, let’s get up and greet them!”
They ran up to the end of the room.
“Ya coming?”
“...Mmm…”
A bright smile embellished the receiver’s face, after which they strode through the door with a relieved, self-satisfied grin, simpering to themselves as they headed right off into the kitchen with a spring in their step as they paced around.
As for Amber…
---
Amber hated her brother, Lucerne Smith. He had straight up lied to her about Mari and Abbi arriving earlier just for the sake of fulfilling his own goals, i.e. yanking his sister out of bed without his sister knowing what she was doing. The horror of his actions was tenfold.
However, Amber’s tiredness was more pressing than her anger. She had initially trudged into the kitchen with sheer reluctance to do anything after responding to that terrible lie. Yet, her spirits were calmed after she’d earnestly finished her brother’s homemade tofu (the sort of stuff with that crispy exterior, soft and sweet interior… absolutely incredible taste).
Amber- who loved tofu more than her brother- had hence been completely defeated, as she was finally awake.
Upon seeing this, her brother had reminded her about how she was forced to help around the house and prepare for her friends’ arrivals, bleh. But it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.
There was a positive side to the onus, thankfully: her first responsibility was gardening. Catharsis. Bliss. Relief. The good part!
Amber loved gardening so much! Her dextrous, nimble fingers worked wonders with plant care, and her father was thrilled every time he caught sight of her craft, as she- according to him- was ‘So gentle with every flower! Oh Amber, i-if only your mother was able to grasp this as quick as you did… heh…’.
Well- his reactions were always a bit over the top. Still, her father was praising her, and it was a terrific boost to her motivation.
The flowers were also so beautiful, too- a kaleidoscope of colour. Sunflowers scattered predominantly in their family’s arrangement, but violets, lucernes, egrets, gladioli, cacti, roses of various colours and lilies of the valley harboured the rows just like it. Ambrosias lingered in the corners, too. Those were said to sprout in the next two months.
However…
“Tch,” he grimaced, “These were supposed to b-bloom by now… you’re a little troublemaker, aren’t you?”
The incoming voice was none other than Amber’s man-child father, Basil Smith. At 38 years, he found himself draped in a white button-up and light-blue jeans, currently covered by his green apron. Falling over his soft blue eyes was thick blonde hair, coming up to just above his shoulders, commonly held in a ponytail. Furthermore, a predominantly sunflower-based flower crown ran through the strands of his hair.
Unfortunately, he was consumed by frustration as he spoke: the future presence of guests had almost certainly thrown his nerves right off the roof.
Basil was miserable.
“See, Amber, I put this one here to optimise sunlight…” he sulked, pondering over a batch of white tulips, “... but it must have been stunted by something else, h-huh?”
His expression changed from sadness to anger.
“Good riddance!” he groaned, “The temperature, pH, and Carbon Dioxide levels have been constant, give or take a few d-degrees on the temperature, b-but light intensity being messed up? It m-must’ve been that massive van that gets here in the middle of the afternoon that put shadows on my tulips! Honestly!”
Basil massaged the sides of the pot in an obvious attempt to smother his anger, much to Amber’s dismay. At this, therefore, she slowly petted against her father’s back.
However, Basil’s frustration was inept, as he began to ponder alternatives to the bothering issue.
“I guess… I-I could run down to Fix-It now, they might have a spare batch… I-It’s not my batch though- it’s Charlie’s! B-But, it’s still tulips… no, of course not! I need to get my own batch! It’s a gift, too! What sort of florist can’t get their hands on the right…”
His response was a string of washed out frustration, dead ends lying everywhere…
He let out a deep sigh.
“Fine,” Basil mumbled, before sneaking a contented smile at his daughter, “C-Come on, Amber. Let’s get this batch prepared… I’ll put these tulips somewhere else…”
“...Yep…”
Amber petted her father’s back again, worriedly. It had been clear for years that her father was the more- ‘uneasy’ parent between him and her mother, so Amber wasn’t too stressed out when her father started to lose his composure, but it was always scary, as he was the one with all the authority. She stroked his back with an unwillingness to let go.
“Ambrosia, I’m alright, thank you…” Basil smiled again, much more cheerily than before. Amber glanced up, nodding at him. Basil gave her shoulder a light squeeze.
Now calmer, the pair took their opportunity to return to their original tangents.
Maintenance work was all that was needed in preparation for the guests’ arrival, Amber had the quick job of watering the batch, while Basil… After storing the tulips in a healthier position, he had to do the ‘just in case’ tasks, as he was calling it: checking for spiders, checking the carbon dioxide levels, and checking the pots were in suitable positions in order to maximise sunlight.
Father and daughter had different styles when it came to gardening, too. Basil- at a greater level of ease- would usually be mumbling under his breath, his words usually this and that from his experiences at work… while Amber would simply stay quiet. Even though she usually gave her father her tranquil, fullest attention… that was just who she was.
It was peaceful. Truth be told, sure- he may’ve been the most overbearing fuss-bucket out of all the people she knew- but Basil’s care for flowers had easily struck a chord with his daughter: Basil was always there to help Amber out whenever she struggled with a technique, or wanted guidance on where to store a plant, or wanted help on deducting the meaning of a plant, or anything else that would’ve bothered her. Her father was a walking plant encyclopaedia, truthfully. It was really nice to be around him.
Amber let out a tiny smirk.
Man, she loved gardening. And her father, too- but mostly gardening.
---
The Smith family’s house was a flourishing spectacle: plants and flowers were scattered about in hanging baskets, pots, and vases; the kitchen was abuzz with salads, fast food, and usually soups or noodles; photographs were decorating the walls, a timeline of many- many years; and the walls were that colour that Basil was uncannily attached to, tying the whole greeness together.
However, it still needed a good brush-up for the guests. Therefore, that was Amber’s begrudging, pitiful next task.
Amber was now wiping their television down: that thing was pretty dusty. None of the Smiths were TV enjoyers, anyway: Basil hated technology in general; their mother only wanted dinosaur documentaries- but was usually too tired to grab the remote in the first place; dinosaur documentaries didn’t catch Luke’s fancy, neither did the CD stash from his uncle Sunny’s leftovers; and… Amber was already glued to her much more efficient phone, so the TV was pointless in comparison.
Yet, the Suzukis- their future guests- were very different. Her aunt and uncle liked to crash after a long day and play something on the screen, and her friends were all into specific genres: Mari liked silly banter and Abbi liked romance. Therefore, Amber had to do what she had to do: if they wanted a movie, they shouldn’t be confronting some obscure dust allergy in the background.
Her brother, however, was hoovering right beside her, shining light on that incessantly loud hum that came with it, like the static of a broken television- the irony! Although- even though the noise was definitely calming, leaving Amber with a sense of peace… It was too loud. Too flipping loud. It took everything in Amber’s willpower to keep her hands away from her ears.
Her brother was startlingly unfazed.
“Amber!” Luke yelled, “Take this!”
Amber felt a jab in her side. Then, a remote was thrust into her hands.
“It was on the floor! Leave it somewhere safe, okay?”
Short blonde hair, amber eyes, and an almost entirely relenting smile. He was 15. Everyone called him Luke as opposed to Lucerne, just like how his younger sister was Amber as opposed to Ambrosia. Only their immediate family would call them by their real names.
As of now, her brother had become energy incarnate. Amber started to question her blood relation to this guy as he pushed and toyed with the handle on the hoover, with such an invigoration to the task that it was almost scary to look at him.
When Luke was driven, he was driven. Whether it was hoovering, or tofu making, he’d try his hardest, because that’s who he was. With so much energy.
He was…
…Actually, the most tolerable out of Amber’s family by a long shot, because of his attitude. He wasn’t a fuss-bucket, nor was he that strict. He was cool, and loved to do things that cool big brothers do.
For example…
“Hey! Amber! I’m talking to you!”
Fingers clicked right in front of Amber’s periphery. She jolted at once.
“Rise and shine, little sister!” came her brother’s voice, yelling over the whirring of the hoover, yet still trying to pertain optimism, “I told you to leave the remote somewhere safe, didn’t I?”
Amber was sulking at the sudden perusal, but Luke only pleasurably nodded back, cool as a cucumber, juxtaposing his yelling state. How in the world did he do it?
“...Shut up,” Amber muttered, quietly. That dang noise…
“The floor isn't gonna clean itself, you know!-...”
A pause. Amber’s breathing developed an awry composition.
“...Ambrosia, is everything alright?” came her brother’s voice, laced in worry, immediately freeing the air from those haggard whirrs of the hoover, turning it off at once.
Relieved, slightly, Amber let out a deep exhale.
“...It’s too loud.”
Her brother tensed slightly, his mouth forming a thin line as he ruminated the all-too-obvious realisation that had slipped his thoughts, imprudently. His gaze was downcast… before his eyes were incited.
“You’re right…” he mumbled, “Um, if what I’m doing is bothering you… How about… since Mari and Abbi are going to be staying in our bedroom, why don’t I go and touch that one up while you stay here in the living room finishing off the dusting? Then, we could swap round, and I could finish the hoovering in this room while you’re dusting the other one. Is that okay?”
Her brother’s responses were all quickfire and gushy-gushy. His sister knew his behaviour was slightly off because he was seeing Abbi later, so she couldn’t blame him. Still, affection was weird…
Amber just nodded. It worked like a charm.
“Nice! Well, I’ll see you around then, little sister!” Luke added, smiling, “Getting tons of spots cleaned does wonders. You know what Uncle Sunny would say about it otherwise…”
Amber tilted her head.
“You know-” he mumbled, “He’ll find the CD stash covered in dust and be like, ‘Basil. How on earth could you neglect the oh-so-precious Sweetheart Chronicles 3? What do you do with your life?’”
Okay, yeah, that was funny. Amber rolled her eyes.
Luke’s smile tensed up, becoming sheepish, before he let out that exhale he was holding back in order to scoop the hover, and take it with him to wherever he was going. Amber only watched him, but calmed down at the sight because thank goodness the sound was gone! Then it hit her.
“Wait, Luke.”
“Hm?”
The ends of Amber’s mouth began to twitch. A hint of mischievousness slipped into the wrath between her subdued, dimly-lit eyes.
“You know- the polaroid stash. The one that Adrian took for you. The one with all the Abbi photos. Don’t bother hiding it- it’s already hidden.”
Amber was sly. Her brother was usually calm and composed, and because those emotions he presented that day were so out of character- she really wanted to mess with him as a result.
His face could only morph from excited to panicked. Then, a tensed-up, uneasy apparition took control of his remaining features. Then, strangled chuckles came right after.
“Ha… er-... D-Dont show that to Mari, please… or Kim… or- anyone, really…”
His expression was gold, pure gold. Amber was having a field day as Luke tried to hide the ever-developing, love-stained bafflement that played at the edges of his smile, which eagerly tried to tear the face he bore to let (in Amber’s assumption) the weariness of excitement and passion he had for the one he loved.
True, it was hilarious to her… but she took pity on him, answering his query, “I’m not dumb. Why would I...”
Luke was pitiful, anyway, “Ha… ha…”
Her brother was out of the room in seconds. Therefore, he was a cool big brother.
Amber was left with a spark of contentment, but also subtle cheeriness.
She then proceeded through the task a lot more valiantly than before. She was already done scrubbing the TV by this point; so she bent down to scrub the various boxes that surrounded the main exhibit. She didn’t know what they were, but they seemed to get the TV up and running, so they must’ve been important for some reason or another.
She also decided to leave the Sweetheart Chronicles to scrub last, because Luke’s impression of her uncle was genuinely funny, and she therefore decided to use it as a parting gift of some sort.
Then, she was left with her company: a mind far from splitting static. As time passed, it slowly began to trail off.
What if… her friends were here with her?
Her brain animated the beckoning room.
Mari gritting her teeth, glaring at the dirt-addled window frame… Abbi frowning because of Amber’s parents’ food choices... Luke nodding on the receiving end of Abbi’s complaints, trying his hardest to calm her down… Sal laughing as she listened to her nephew become a waffler… and Adrian- the waffler- trying to connect the plants at their front with the birds in his encyclopaedia, deducting which would be attracted to what…
Amber shook her head. Alas, it was all thought.
---
As mentioned previously, Amber’s father- Basil- was a right worrywart when it came to guests. However, since Basil was also the most competent in their family with housekeeping, uplifting others, and cooking… to have him overwhelmed by his fears on important days was a travesty in itself, because his family needed him in order to function. He was the man of the house for heaven’s sake!
Amber’s mother, therefore, decided to leave her shift earlier than usual, with the intention of helping her husband to reduce his worrywart tendencies. It was easy for her, anyway: Amber’s mother literally owned her own workplace.
The grunting of the door was her greeting. Short brown hair, amber eyes, pale skin, and red glasses- with a brooch that resembled a violet. She was 38. Her eyelids were lowered- complementary to her harried expression, with her posture and swift strides both poignant, but also relaxed- as this was her normal. Yet… today, she was moderately tired, sighing as she entered the house and absent-mindedly draped her knee-length coat upon the coathanger.
All these thoughts went through Amber’s head as she stared at her mother with keen attention, watching her as she greeted her lively- definitely trembling- older brother, pleased due to his efforts in keeping the house afloat.
She then paced about, taking a quick scan of the living room and the adjacent kitchen, accessing the efforts of the home-bound members. On instinct, she first had a deadpan frown- because she always seemed miserable in some way- but soon began to tilt her head, nodding.
After this, she was standing before Amber. Relief filled her features upon meeting that familiar, stoically judging glare.
“Afternoon to you, Amber,” she droned, before grabbing her daughter’s shoulder to give it a nice squeeze, “The living room looks real stellar. Nice work.”
Amber was startled- no- definitely overwhelmed by her mother’s praises. Luke gave some hushed claps for his sister.
“And… Luke…” their mother sighed, turning to face her son with an amused look, “Nice work with the hoover, too- the floor feels… nice… and- breakfast was brilliant! I bet you made my colleagues jealous. They don’t say, but…” She then nudged his shoulder with a smirk. “Good job!”
…
“C’mon! Do I not get any thank yous now?” she groaned, whipping her head round to read her son’s face like a book. She stifled a laugh.
“...Someone’s nervous, are we?”
“O-Oh, no… I… I’m fine! Everything’s in tip-top shape around here…”
Luke was somewhat fretting, snapped out of his tracks. To their mother, it was peak amusement.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she snorted, waving her vacant hand in the air, “You're nervous, aren't ya? Nothing to be ashamed about. Even I'm a bit worried about seeing your aunt's face again; she'll see my face for a second and psychoanalyse me to death. Me and Basil both.”
Their mother grimaced slightly, rolling her eyes, causing Amber to stifle a laugh. Luke, however, looked away with some sheepishness, unwilling to accept his mother's words as a possible truth.
“You know…” she hummed, continuing, “I ain't mad at you- just amused… Hmm… Did you know you were pulling a goldfish expression?”
Now he was talking. “H-Huh? G-Goldfish?”
“Mhm!” she sang with an unamused air, “Make sure you get that look fixed before your girlfriend sees it.”
“G-G...?”
And this was the turning point. Luke proceeded to shrivel up, cupping his face from the embarrassment. Their mother simply gave her son a shrug, before sneakily leaning towards her daughter.
“Your brother’s in love with your aunt’s kid, isn’t he…” she simpered, hushed, “If I were him… I don’t know how I could keep it together. People always say how thoughts of a loved one wreck your mental space. Wacky as ‘eck, I’d reckon…”
Yet, Luke had recovered, smiling at them with a peaceful expression, completely fine with their mother’s bullying. The literal mick was being taken out of him! How on earth was he still smiling? Amber didn't know what to say. Were they really related?
It seemed her mother was indifferent too, emotions dwindling upon meeting her son’s unchanged smile- despite her trembling, emoting daughter stood beside her.
Therefore… Kimberly Smith came back to her senses.
“Fine, fine, have it your way,” Kim droned, “I’m like this because work went real well. Like, look, client had a super upbeat personality- and we had a real chill conversation. I mean- it was definitely mood-lifting!... even though her hair was another story… but I like challenges. Definitely a good experience.”
She sighed. Then, she smiled again.
“Anyway… I'm here for your dad. Where'd he go?”
Amber raised a brow at the statement, before murmuring the answer, “Master bedroom…”
“...Look at you, being so responsible! Thanks,” Kim chirped, almost immediately ruffling her daughter’s hair upon hearing her voice. Amber only shivered uncomfortably. Luke- again- gave Amber a gesture to console her, this time winking.
Yet, the atmosphere was served so soon, as the future events overrode Kim’s countenance.
She began to reunite with her initial traits, that sweeping glare of condescendance overtaking her as she pushed her glasses up and glanced down at her two children. It wasn’t anger, it was ‘work mode’.
“Alright, I'm off,” she announced, firmly, “Your job is to get ready, but I’m really asking for you to get changed. Your uncle Sunny rang me up earlier because he didn’t want to bother Basil, and he’s been telling me that he’ll be here in an hour or two. Leave the house alone, okay? All you need to do is get ready… not only physically, but mentally- too. Abbi and Mari are rough ones.”
She was shrugging as she added her last words, her attempt at humouring the conversation by referencing her kids’ friends not exactly averting the way she’d hoped, as neither of her kids were finding her funny. Even so, Luke nodded his head, swallowing a breath- and all the anger trailed away from Amber’s eyes as she received relief: thank God the work was over!
Satisfied, their mother gave them a smirk again, because it’s just what she does.
“See you in a bit,” she quipped, and then she was gone to her shared bedroom.
Amber had initially glanced at the hallway, and then her brother, sniggering. Luke’s responses to a great portion of the conversation was ridden in cheesy undertones which majorly referred to Abbi, so she was in a teasing mood as opposed to a cold-blooded one. Luke gave her that haphazard, sheepish smile again once he caught her glance.
“An hour, huh…” he mumbled, lost in his own thoughts- yet feeling compelled to make a conversation.
However, his next words were entirely contradictory, falling under the archetype where Amber would question if her brother shared her blood group, as Luke proceeded to speak as if he had been brought to life, saying, “Alright! C’mon, little sister, let’s go and get changed. Then we can both rest, and get that mental preparation kicking in.”
Why oh why was he like this? Amber straight up groaned at him.
“I-I’m not wrong…” he shrugged, smiling, trying to understand his sister.
Yet… “Can it,” Amber muttered, “Goldfish face. It’s still there.”
“G-Grk- still?”
Luke immediately placed a fist to his mouth which caused his blush to deepen. His little sister was now holding back very out of character bouts of laughter.
She gave him a grin, “You look happy.”
“Heh, yeah, I mean… Of course!” he tittered, “Abbi’s coming, obviously… but so is Mari! Er- Don’t you miss their antics? I miss Mari’s passion, and all that energy- and for Abbi… I miss… the way she listens is one thing, maybe…”
It was splittingly obvious that Luke was trying to divert his feelings, as he spoke to Amber in a language she understood. He knew Amber always rambled to Abbi about plants, anyway. Therefore, what he was currently saying was comedy gold, because that wasn’t the way he saw her, that was how his sister did.
“So-... What about you? Excited?”
Already diverting the conversation. Wow.
Amber had then realised that she had to talk back, so pondered:
For the most part, both Abbi and Mari were friend material. Abbi was like an older sister- who Amber admired thoroughly for her appearance, and talents in cooking- charming- listening (to her plant rambles) and playing piano… whereas Mari was silliness incarnate, loud- cunning- and very well-dressed, who owned that brilliant sketchbook with all that art of Luke’s flustered face which made him look stupid. One thing of many.
All in all, there was certainly a degree of longing for her friends hidden somewhere along the lines…
“...Amber?”
Right. Do not be a whole sap. She mumbled, “Yeah...”
Her brother started consoling her.
“Embrace it, Amber,” he droned, immediately punching her shoulder, “Look, they’ll be here soon. Kim said an hour, didn’t she?”
“An hour ‘til you see Abbi again,” she spouted, not impressed at all, moreso jaded. She wanted him to talk to her without his head in the clouds. Why? Because his dead obvious attempt at concealing his emotions was actually hilarious.
“Yeah, of course!” he responded, twisted with zeal, “We’re both going to see her. We're going to be able to sit with Abbi and watch a movie with her, maybe. I'm sure you'd enjoy that, right?”
“Dinosaur documentaries aren’t…” she trailed off. When considering movies, it came to their stash at home: all of them were bad. Either some Sweetheart-Spaceboy romcom- er- adventure- or something about a decayed fossil. She hadn’t a clue how it interested either of their parents.
“C’mon… it’s still a movie…” Luke whined.
His little sister raised a brow at his optimism, before attempting to provoke him from a different angle rather than the hopeless one.
“…Mari will be watching too. You cannot…” she deadpanned, before shuddering with a whisper, “...k-kiss.”
Not the angle she particularly liked, but it seemed to change her brother a bit.
“H-Hey!” Luke snapped, screwing his face, “I wasn’t even thinking about it! It’s supposed to be a fun-filled movie night, not some sort of romantic occasion! Amber!”
His little sister nodded furiously. Thank the lord she and Luke were sharing the same blood group at last. Until she doubted it again. Which was very soon after his previous outburst.
A smugness began to dance in Luke’s tone that Amber wished she hadn’t seen.
“Although… Mari won’t be there for the entire night… or you, for that matter…”
“...Ugh.” Amber had quite literally had enough of this guy.
“Heh, what can I say?” Luke sighed, “Thank me later when you feel the same about your crush.”
Wait, crushes? “I-I don’t-”
“It’s a hypothetical, little sister,” he shrugged, paying close attention to how uncomfortable Amber was becoming, before immediately shaking the topic off, “Anyway! Come on, time’s ticking. The hour’s already becoming less than an hour.”
Amber winced, downcast. Her enjoyment of messing with her brother had subsequently alluded to time-blindness, and now she looked like an idiot. Dang it.
He had already strode to the living room’s entrance, tilting his head enthusiastically as he spouted, “Coming?”
And his sister just had to succumb, because life’s a big nuisance. She ultimately decided to save the pestering for another time, but didn’t want to forget what she’d started…
Screw time. Amber irritatedly stomped out of the room.
---
Neither sibling had much to do after Kim told them to just chill. Amber was elated, so she ended up scrolling and scrolling for goodness knows how long, while Luke tried to get an assignment done, unable to knock the apprehensions out of his head.
They’d also changed into their casual looks: Luke was wearing a white short-sleeved T-shirt and beige cargo trousers, whereas Amber was in dark-green overalls above a black-and-white striped shirt. Both had also added their flower pins: Amber’s was of a single ambrosia flower, whereas Luke has the same of a lucerne. Basil and Kim even had ones of a sunflower and a violet- it was a nice thing that connected their whole family.
After this, the siblings stayed quiet, worn out from the morning chores, so the only sounds that lingered in the air for a short while were the muffled conversations of their parents in the adjacent room.
This only lasted until it didn’t, not very long after.
Knocking was the culprit. It pulsated around the house. Then, it moved from a few taps to all out rattering, as if a human-sized woodpecker had materialised at their front door. It was dead obvious there was a kid somewhere. That kid being Mari, probably.
Luke started up at once, shaking before forcefully righting himself. Amber mainly just tilted her head, unamused after she’d scrolled her phone for so long. The realisation dawned on her straight after. Dear God.
Amber’s head started to throw a fit, but…
“Hey… do you think that it’s-?” came her big brother, quietly.
She gave him a tiny nod. Her eyes had become studded with gleaming stars. Luke gave her a smile.
He then grabbed onto her arm.
They were wordless as they raced into the hallway, before meeting their parents strapped to the door. One was nervousness incarnate, and the other was worn out.
“Kim… c’mon… You know how Aubrey gets when she’s…” Basil ushered, peering at the door before wincing to glance at his wife. The door was just banging and banging. Again, it was dead obvious that neither of the adults were knocking it, but Basil was still that dang worrywart nonetheless.
“I-I’m… trying,” Kim grumbled, “I just- I’m not the one who double-bolts the doors! Why would you even bother with this sort of thing?”
“Eh, because-”
His wife raised a hand, dismissing him to give herself full focus. Therefore, Basil just shook his head, worriedly pressing a hand to his chest.
Luke was in the open, whereas Amber held back, clutching to the archway that separated the living room and the hallway. Her brother seemed to be delighted, but she herself was just waiting for the rattering to stop. Then she could be happy.
Then, Kim stood back with relief, wiping her brow, a self-satisfied smirk following into her expression.
Basil took the hint. He reached for the door handle, letting the chilly rush of brittle air seep right in.
Then he finally let out a relaxed smile.
There they were.