Accentuate the Accent

-1- To Be Thankful For -1-

You hadn't waited very long for the cab to arrive, but once it had, you were relieved. Abraham said it would be there in ten minutes, but it had been near thirty. It hadn't helped calm your already antsy form. It was Thanksgiving Day and Abraham and the boys invited you over.

Abraham assured you needn't bring anything but yourself, but you wanted to bring something; it was a day of thanks, wasn't it? Why wouldn't you bring anything to express your gratitude? You shook your head and watched the small rain drops slide from the car's window. Slowly, your mind drifted to other things, the small bouquet of "fruit-flowers" held your hand's attention at least.

It was recent that it started raining once more; not anything like the storm from a few weeks ago, but still surprising since it was the end of November. You had to close your home windows despite the need for a good airing out. It for sure wasn't no spring cleaning, however. Another frown tugged at your lips and you closed your eyes for what seemed like a moment.

Julie ended up sending that eviction notice that you had anticipated earlier this month. It left you feeling very empty and - though the boys expected something heavier on your distraught smiles, they let it be. Abraham was a little more, ah, persuasive with finding out. Granted, you allowed him the time of day, and he said he would figure something out.

He promised....

His hands clenched furiously on the mug of long forgotten coffee; he smiled anyway. "Believe me, ___, we won't let'ya frown much longer." I had believed it, but that was a week ago. Nothing had come up and I could tell he was more stressed than usual. I had cooked and cleaned the house for a while when I was there, but Abraham would scold me and insist on relaxing.

"Abraham, I'm fine," I assured him; the sadness in his eyes evident. It hurt me a little to find he was so concerned. This wasn't the side of him I wanted to see.... Not because of me. "I'm fine."

Still, the furrow of his brow never ceased to crease. I find myself losing words as he curls a hand in my shortened locks. "... Jus'don't like ya frownin'."

And as soon as the fire of his touch settled, it vanished with much shock to my soul. He walked past me, his jacket tossed somewhere, I could imagine. Cronus tried to figure out my frozen state as he came down the stairs, but I couldn't understand it myself.

My mind went as blank and dry as my throat and no amount of trying could help just how conflicted I felt. There was no logic to the butterfly-feeling, no concept to the picture being painted. No, it's all in my head. But I didn't want it to be. Why?

I ended up sitting in Eridan's presence, trying to play a video game that needed all of my attention, where none of it existed. "Maybe we could watch a movie instead, ___?"

"Ma'am," You blinked roughly and stared up at the cab driver. She nodded her head to the window. Abraham had just handed the cabbie the money and you flustered. Shit. Abraham had opened the door for you and waved the cabbie off. You sauntered with the confidence of a wet leaf to his side. The first thing - besides the apron - you notice was how the wind carried his scent. Not even the rain could mask the musk. He smelled like pine needles and coffee grounds; a strong, earthy tang.

It smelled like home.

"Evening, Abe... Um... Here. I know you told me not to, but I couldn't help it..." He smiled very gently; that father-like smile reminded you much of the times your own father smiled when you tried to do something overbearing. He will probably never let go of the one time you tried to cut your own hair. "Mommy has pretty bangs! I want bangs, too!" You frown a little though Abraham takes the edible arrangement in his arms with care.