Storms of the Sky

three-zero-seven - XCI

TW: mention of trauma, ab.se 

--Bastet--

"Thank you so much," Quarry says as he closes the door with his heel. In his arms he carries two plates of crème brulee, two slices of chocolate fudge cake, a small bowl of dandelion syrup and three forks in his fist.

He sits all of the sweets down on the bed in front of Avery and I. We all sit with the food in the center, staring it down.

"When can we start?" Avery asks, her mouth open slightly. She's like a drooling dog.

Quarry looks at me in turn and takes the forks and raises them in the air.

"Happy birthday Bastet! May the stars, skies and seas be on your side!" He draws the forks down.

"May!" Avery shouts, grabbing a fork from Quarry. I take a fork as well. Avery dives into the cake, dipping her fork in syrup before taking a slice. She gives me the tiny bowl of syrup.

"Cake then brulee," Quarry says nodding. "A wise choice."

I take a bite of cake and melt.

"Oh my fucking god," I mumble around it. "I—What?" Quarry and Avery nod knowingly. Brina cuisine.

I take more cake with Avery as Quarry starts on the crème brulee. By the time me and Avery have managed to inhale the entire slice, Quarry has finished an entire crème brulee.

"Quarry," I say, grabbing the second crème brulee. "Inhale."

Quarry gets up and rubs his eyes. He looks around sleepily before he moves to the landline.

"Quarry no—" Avery starts.

"Hi, yes, room service. Three slices of chocolate fudge and a bowl of fig ice cream. Oh my god, strawberry? Yes."

"Quarry," I get up and take the landline from him. He looks at me pleadingly as he shouts into the line: "Room 307."

"We're gonna die," Avery says, finishing the crème brulee. Quarry smiles.

"A good death then." I slap my face. This is definitely a birthday to remember.

I wonder what I will be doing next year for my birthday. Will I still be with Avery and Quarry? What will we be doing? Eating cake and crème brulee until we're sick? To be honest, I really enjoy this.

"We need an actual cake next year," I say quietly, half scared they're actually going to hear me. Avery scoops more crème brulee from the bowl.

"Where would we bake it? We do not own an oven," She says. Quarry hums, sitting back down on the bed.

"Maybe when the Thorn thing dies down we can go back to the Meadow," He says. I sigh, sinking into bed as well.

"You're just saying that because your boyfriend is there," I say. Quarry shrugs.

"It's still a good place to live. Or we could break in and use the oven." Avery drops her spoon with a clatter and waves her hands by her face.

"Oh yes, let's just go up and say 'Hey Lady Sorrel! Remember us? We are here to bake a cake and see Milo! And then you will never see us again!'" Avery puffs out her cheeks. She reminds me of a cartoon ghost when she does that.

"We could get jobs when Thorn stops following us," I say, still quiet. Avery and Quarry look at me, incredulously. I look back up at them and make a face. "Then we could afford an apartment!"

Quarry hums and crosses his arms.

"Well I could see what my manager would say at the diner," He says, looking in a middle-space. Avery looks at him, tired. She looks about ready to smack him.

"Dude, you are fired."

"Huh?" Quarry whips his head towards her. I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Don't even try..." I whisper. Quarry lowers his head. "Still. I think that's the best plan. Then we can all stay together and we can all go to the Meadow sometimes too." Avery and Quarry take this in, swapping looks.

"I like it," Avery says. "Let's do it."

"YEAH!" Quarry pumps his arms, jumping to his knees. "YEAH LETS DO IT!" I laugh. I put my hand over the pile of dishes, in between us all. I've always wanted to do this.

"Okay! Okay! On three," I say. Avery puts her hand in.

"Operation Get-A-Job-And-Get-A-House on three!" Quarry shouts, bouncing on the bed.

"I'm not saying that," Avery says, raising an eyebrow. Quarry groans.

"Best friends on three! ONETWOTHREE!" I shout.

"BEST FRIENDS!" Me and Quarry shout as Avery mumbles covering her smile, "Best friends yeah."

I look to the side, my face heating up. I take a breath.

"Back home we have a ritual too," I start. Quarry and Avery look at me expectantly. I can feel bees in my chest but I continue on. Too late to back out. "We sing."

"Oh you mean the birthday song?" Avery asks. I nod, leaning towards her. "Quarry, do you know it?"

"Partially," He says, leaning to the side. "But I got this."

Quarry takes a slice of chocolate fudge cake and sits it in front of me. Avery looks up at me and smiles. I look down at my slice of cake, my stars bright.

Quarry rummages through the drawers of the dresser he shoved his belongings in before coming back and sitting down on the bed. He places a single match in the cake. He lights it with another match, swiping it across the box quicker than my eyes can see.

The match lights. Quarry leans to turn off the lights.

I blink as the dark blankets me, the only light is from my makeshift candle. It illuminates the room softly, like it's hugging us each in turn.

Quarrys face watches the flame. Flickering, licking, burning it goes. He smiles down at it before lifting his eyes to mine.

Averys features are held by the light as well. Her eyes look more gold in this dim light. Gold, as they should be.

I hold my breath, my stars dimming. Quarry inhales, beginning the song.

"Happy birthday to you," He sings deep, voice catching on you. It's deeper than I expected. Sunbeams at noon on winter days and crickets on cool summer evenings.

"Happy birthday to you," Avery sings lightly. I close my eyes. Her voice is like velvet against orchids. I blink tears away, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.

"Happy birthday dear Bastet," They both sing in harmony. One high, one low. I wonder how we'd sound all together. With Quarrys bone-warming voice and Avery's velvet. What would mine add?

I open my eyes, the bright flame burning my vision. I lift up the plate to my face. My throat burns as the last line is sung.

"Happy birthday to you."

I inhale deep, and blow. The room turns to dark as the match is extinguished.

My wish lingers in my mind: for more birthdays. More birthdays like this.