To make up for previous weeks of silence I will be posting several snippets throughout the week. This is the first.
There were too many damn colors of nail polish. Aiden finally settled on a few of the normal pink shades of which there were hundreds and then gaped when he went to pay for them. Of course his sister wouldn’t use the cheap stuff. It made him feel better about the green polish he’d swiped and pocketed. It would match the color of her eyes, the verdant shade they shared.
Three hours later he’d ruined two pots, the remains of charred macaroni forever affixed to their bottoms and managed to explode brownie mix over the entirety of the oven. Between multiple attempts he’d salvaged two bowls of the fake yellow pasta and a respectable tower of slightly undercooked brownies.
Not usually what you would set with a Parisian dry rosé, but then he and his sister had always been an odd pairing. He set it all on their cheap coffee table, an offering of nail polish and nostalgic food. Aiden set the television to a reality show, a pile of Disney movies waiting on the floor if she didn’t feel like watching the spectacle of silicon driven drama.
He didn’t hear the jingle of keys just the creak of the door, she knew he never locked anything. “Hey Lore.” He said. Aiden threw a blanket over the couch before flopping down on his side. “How are you?” He leaned over the arm of the couch, looking up at her and taking in the blistering tension emanating from his statuesque and polished sibling.
She gave no answer except to shove his feet off her side of the couch, sit and reach for a brownie. He laughed and she gave him a look, which melted into a flicker of a smile.
“Housewives of something or other?” He asked and picked up his bowl.
“Sure.” She said, pulling golden hair into a messy bun. Lore settled next to him with her structurally unsound dessert.