Creature of Unknown Origin


4. Puzzle Pieces

I inhaled deeply. The savory aroma of bacon coaxed my heavy eyes open. Bright daylight

filtered in through the slits between the wooden blinds. My body groaned when I stretched out my

legs and rolled over onto my side. Spencer had left the bedroom door slightly ajar, the bastard.

He knew what it took to get me out of bed, and that was the sizzle of bacon grease in a pan,

the clinking of breakfast dishes, and the vague promise of normalcy.

I gave myself another minute of soaking up the warmth from the cocoon of blankets I’d

managed to wrap myself in. My joints cracked when I sat up in bed, but that was nothing compared

to my heavy heart when the sweet scent of a vanilla bakery tickled my nose. Spencer always made

pancakes after a night like last night.

A bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich could be taken on the go, but pancakes meant sitting

down together and idle chit-chat. Sometimes it was nice, and I even welcomed it. But after last

night — I shuddered. After last night, I wanted nothing more than space, to be left alone, to ignore

it even though I drowned in it, in those hell-blazed eyes.

The nightmare itched and scratched at the surface of my mind as I changed and stumbled

into the kitchen with a deep frown. An eager smile quickly replaced the worried lines scarring my

face at the sight of warm pancakes and a heap of bacon.

“That’s a record , you know.” Spe ncer flipped what looked to be the last set of pancakes

over on the griddle and tossed me a tired smile. “Thought you’d be up as soon as the bacon hit the


“No, it’s too early for this. Coffee first, lots of it.” I grabbed my favorite mug from the

cup board, pointedly ignoring Spencer’s snickering. Brewed coffee filled my nostrils, warm and

inviting. The coffee pot clicked when I set it back in its place, my spoon clinking against the

ceramic mug as I all but carved circles in the bottom of my mug, absently stirring in my sugar.

“So, I guess the bacon’ s all mine, then?”

“Don’t you even joke about not sharing bacon with me ! That ’s the worst nightmare I could

ever imagine!” I glared over my coffee mug and leaned against the counter to watch him, or more

specifically, the bacon.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Av.” Spencer piled the last of the pancakes on top of the others and

turned off the griddle. The plates thunked against the wooden table as he gently set them down and

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