The Minutes We Have

chapter five

I was freezing.

After I entered the house, I stood by the front door peeling off layers of soaked, chilly clothing that wanted to cling to my poor skin. I was unconsciously shivering, attempting to dance out of my snow pants as fast as I could. 

"What happened to you?" My oldest brother's voice had me turning around to face him, "Why are your clothes soaking wet?" 

"We were playing in the snow," I told him through the shivers that slowly grew less violent as the warmth of the house thawed me out. 

"Your face is so red," Mikeal commented, drawing closer. He was wearing casual, lounge clothes, and he looked extremely warm. His blue eyes were keenly set on me before flickering over my head to probably look at the twins. 

"Roman dumped me on my face," I said. 

"Snitch!" 

I fake-glared at Roman, "It's true!" 

"It wasn't on purpose!" 

"I told you it would happen!" 

"Alright, alright," Mikeal grabbed my forearm, and spun me back to face him, "That's enough---geez, you're freezing." His eyes reflected disapproval as he took in my sheer skin. 

"I know," I muttered, and then I spared a glance towards Roman, "I'm not actually mad, it's fine." 

"But you get me in trouble?" Roman scoffed in disbelief. 

I shrugged, "What else am I supposed to do? Be nice?" 

"You should try it," He challenged. 

Mikeal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then he was steering my shoulders towards the stairs. He gave me a light shove between my shoulder blades, and demanded, "Go change, and come back down for some hot chocolate before you catch a cold." 

I didn't protest. I went upstairs and threw my wet clothes in the bathtub, where I would take care of them later, and then I dressed in sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, and my favorite hoodie. My fuzzy sock-clad feet didn't make a noise as I headed back downstairs. 

Mikeal had started a pot of hot water on the stove, and when I took a seat at the island counter, he asked, "Feel better?" 

"Almost," I nodded, "Hot chocolate would make it a whole lot better." 

He chuckled softly, "Coming right up, your highness." 

I scrunched my nose, "Ew, don't ever say that again. I might throw up."  

His blue eyes were alight with amusement, as he stood with his arms crossed on the other side of the kitchen island, waiting for the water to simmer. "Is that so?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Princess?" 

I pretended to blanch. 

He was laughing when the twins came back downstairs. The two of them were an endless bundle of shoving and teasing each other. I didn't know what was up with them lately but I noticed they verbally argued--friendly, of course--a lot more than they used to.

Finley was happily stretched out, slightly beneath the cabinet beside the stove where a heat vent was, and I saw that someone had given him some dog food. Probably Mikeal because the twins weren't as consistent. Although Finley would never starve because Julian fed him stuff under the table all the time, which I still scolded him for. 

When the water was finally hot enough, we took turns grabbing mugs from the cabinet and serving ourselves some of the best hot chocolate. There was a little antique store in town that I had discovered and they sold an older hot chocolate mix that we absolutely loved from the first moment we tried it.