Chapter Three | Family Matters

Listen to Photograph By Ed Sheeran for this chapter

Now look at the whole Creves family

•••

I gave my dad an expressionless look as he attempted to scare me. Clearly, the attempt failed. Well, with me at least, dad scared my brother. It was the best thing I've seen all day. My brother's scared face and girly scream. I will definitely sleep well tonight.

My father gave us his signature chuckle and swept us into a hug. "I'm glad you kids got home safe," My dad said, his breath brushing my ear. I could smell some of his nice cologne. "I didn't, I died a few times," I told my dad. He laughed at me a little bit and dragged us inside. He shut the door behind us. He ruffled my dark hair, said "Of course you did," and went back into the oasis we call a kitchen.

I stared at my father for a little bit. He was wearing his a occasional black denim shirt and black jeans. It perfectly suited his messy dirty blond and his stubbled chin. Everything suits my father, no matter how messy or ugly. My dad would look great as a hobo. People would pay him for being such a hot hobo.

If you looked at all of us, you would think that we were adopted children. That's obviously not true. He's my biological father and Erwin is my biological brother. We all are related by blood. It's just my mother, she has nice short dark hair.

I know it's rare to have naturally black hair. I'm the only kid that does. Scientifically, Erwin has really dark brown hair. My hair is, in fact, black. Nowadays, it's gotten some highlights. It looks pretty cool if you ask me.

I jogged up the stairs silently and entered my blue bedroom. It's my place of solitude. I situated myself on my light blue bed and laid down. I stared at our family photo. It just consists of a four year old me, six year old Erwin, and my parents. I stared at my mother.

She's the most beautiful woman you'll ever meet, I see why my dad fell in love. Her small petite frame, her nice messy pixie hairdo. Her nice blue eyes. I loved how her freckles were just splattered around her face like paint. I remember I used to connect her freckles to see if it could become a constellation. I used to make tons in them on her face.

I softly placed the family photo back onto my nightstand and stood up. I walked out of my room and made my way down the stairs. The smell of lasagna hit my nose like an bullet. I'm so glad my nose isn't bulletproof. I would die. I rushed down the steps, stumbling along the way, and swung around to the kitchen.

My father was calmly standing at the oven, staring out at the opening of the kitchen. As if he was just waiting for me to swing by, literally. My dad laughed and walked to me. "You hungry?" He asked.

As if on cue, my stomach growled. I smiled sheepishly. "Does that answer your question?" I asked, rubbing my howling stomach. My father just laughed some more and opened the oven. The smell of lasagna filled the kitchen. It took over every small space, every crack. I could feel myself fainting.

My dad slipped the mittens onto his large hands and reached for the lasagna. "Be careful!" I yelled at my dad as he reached in. He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "Thanks for worrying, I'm-" Before he could finish, I shook my head. "I was talking about the lasagna," I told him.

He frowned and continued pulling the lasagna out. I started laughing uncontrollably. He huffed and walked to the dark dining room. I giggled as I turned on the lights for him. I saw his angry face. As I wiped off an inexistent tear, his anger was clouded with amusement. He smiled as he placed the lasagna on the maroon dining table.

I went to the kitchen and searched for plates. I reached to the top cabinet and found a stack of plates. I grabbed the first three and situated them in the counter. I pulled a drawer opened and saw some forks and spoons. I pulled out three forks and three knives. A total of six utensils. Wow, I did math.

Math isn't a thing I'm bad at. I just never really do it out of school. Yes, I end up with math problems like a so called 'normal' person but I don't do hardcore equations. I'm always too lazy to do math without a paper.

I placed the forks onto the stack of plates and carried them to the dining room table. There was dad and Erwin having a conversation about how he should join the baseball team I had one of those conversations too. It was about how I should join the soccer team.

Yes, I'm good at soccer. I played in a team for two years. I stopped playing when I stopped making friends. I know the basics and I'm pretty good at it. I still go to the park sometimes and practice. I guess I still miss it...

I placed a plate and the silverware in front of Erwin. I did the same with dad and me. I always set up the table. We all kinda share jobs. After this, Erwin has to wash the dishes. It's not a bad routine. I totally commit to it.

Sometimes, Erwin complains about how I should wash the dishes most of the time. I do it on the weekend, isn't that enough? I mean come on, I have to stop my painting sessions to clean up.

I took a seat next to Erwin, dad was across from me. I took the spatula and dug out some lasagna. I made a huge square and slapped it onto my plate. I got stares from dad and my brother. They just jelly cause I'm able to eat food without someone telling me when and how to eat it.

•••

This chapter is dedicated to jazzzzknowsitall. She's cool and she's an awesome and understanding friend. Thank you for reading my books Jazzy!

Hey, the 666th word in here is table. Can you find it? It won't be hard since I say it just twice.

Well, you don't have to vote but I would love it if you comment!

You all are so awesome!

Luv u all!

Buh~Bye!

-Celia😓