The Funeral Style

Chapter Sixteen

This book is the only thing I have going for me how sad is that

Chapter Sixteen

I begged him to come inside with me. We were both soaked to the bone, and I began to feel a chill every movement I made. As thin and bone-like as he was, I was surprised he was still standing without quavering like a madman.

He stood there, gazing about, as if admiring his cemetery. The look on his face was of pride, and little something more I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I followed his gaze around, realization came to me as I remembered the main question of why I came out in the rain in the first place. "Where is everyone?" I crossed my arms over my chest as a pathetic endure from the cold. 

I watched him take a deep breath as droplets of rain washed onto his face, and quickly dripped down his pale skin, to the ground. "Gone. I sent them home for the day."

"Why?" Better question is why he wasn't sending me home.

"They irk me at times."

"So you just send them home?" I scoffed, "It's a good think you aren't running your own business." Or could this be considered a business? "Why am I not being sent home, don't I irk you the most?" I was sarcastically teasing, but he nodded anyway.

"You do."

I blinked, "I do?"

"You are by far the worst." He again, nodded to himself. "In fact, you insanely displease me more than any other I've ever met."

I frowned at him, knowing he wasn't the type to joke around, he was being a hundred percent serious. "Well you irk me too." I stated boldly, "And if you aren't going in, then I'll go in myself."

No point in forcing him to come in, if I 'irk' him so badly. It's not like he has anything to complain about anyway, I'm the one that is being forced here. I spun around, and began to walk back into the building. No point in running, since I was as wet as I could possibly get.

I heard his footsteps behind as he slowly came to walking alongside me. "Did I upset you, Miss Adler?" He spoke, as if what he was saying didn't matter to him at all. He only said it as a form of decency and manners. God, if only I had his patience.

"No." I gritted my teeth, possibly from the cold, or from sincere annoyance. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn't allow myself to look back at him. Maybe, if I acted like a brat long enough, he'd get bored and send me home. That's all I really had going for me at this point.

Something had to drive him up the wall, if I just found out what, he could even possibly tell me to never return. I think both myself, and Amanda, my dead sister in the grave, would agree no visit to her would be worth meeting this man once more. She would advise me to never see him again. No matter what is at stake.

We both made it into the building. Leaving a mass puddle under the both of us as we both just stood there, relishing in the warmth of a dry atmosphere. Neither of us moved a muscle, in the slight chance of suddenly catching a frightfully cold sensation that we were coated in just seconds before.

"Let us change." I heard Mr. Parity say, as he turned his head to look over at me.  

I only shook my head, "I don't have clothes."

"Nonsense, I have plenty of spares for you and I both." Him, change. The only other time I had every seen him out of his 'funeral uniform' is when he stabbed a man in an alleyway. I quickly wondered how odd it was that his attire actually allured me.

This place was slowly corrupting my mind from actual important thoughts.

I nodded at him to show me where to get dry clothes, and he took me into a room that looked almost like a closet. He told me it was the 'changing room' for all workers here, since they all had to look completely prestige, or they might as well consider themselves garbage. I remembered entering this room only once before, but I had assumed it was the clothing room for the dead, even then, I had thought that it was a bit strange.

After he left the room, I quickly dressed into a short black skirt and long-sleeved shirt. The shirt was slightly too large, but I felt all the more comfortable knowing it wasn't soaked with icey rainwater.

I walked out of the dressing room, and back into the entry-room of the building. Mr. Parity was already there as he was staring out the window. As soon as he acknowledged my presence, he began to focus on me. 

As he turned his body to face me, I noticed he was wearing a completely different outfit than he previously does. His shirt was clean, wasn't two sizes too big, and didn't have a hole to be seen. He looked like a completely different person, besides the fact that he was still way to thin.

"Do you always stare so bluntly like that?" I suddenly woke from my trance to see him frowning at me.

"Do you always have to dress like a freak?" I lied, he looked really good. Too bad he was a freak.

"Can't say I don't agree." He said solemnly. As he lead me to the counter. "I'm a peculiar anomaly in it's natural habitat."

"Peculiar anomaly." I nodded, "That's sounds about right."

"And you're my accessory." He said, with humor dripping from his tone, I rolled my eyes as he began to grin, "You should learn to take a whimsy."

I laughed, "A whimsy?"

He shrugged, the grin now growing wider on his face, "You know, a joke, gag, drollery, jocosity, typical comicalness."

"You have such a broad vocabulary for a man who doesn't look very old." We both sat down on stools near the counter bar. For a mere moment, I felt as if I had forgotten who it was that I was speaking too.

He didn't look surprised, "Or your vocabulary is just meek."

"You're meek." I sarcastically mumbled, as I still felt a slight shiver from my hair being wet.

He took a deep breath, his eyes not leaving me, he sighed, "How old do you think I am, Miss Adler?"

I thought for a moment, not really sure what the correct answer would be,  "I don't know, twenty-seven, twenty-eight?"

He shook his head, "Not even merely close." He slowly looked down to the floor, "I am only eighteen years of age."

My eyes widened in shock. Only eighteen? He was practically my own age. "That's impossible." I said in disbelief.

"And yet, here I am."

I gawked at him, "You are too young to be doing such work like this."

"You are never too young to do the things you most desire."

"And do you really desire it?" The question spilled out from my mouth before I could catch it, and hold it back. 

The look on his face dulled for a moment, and something seemed to flash across his eyes as he spoke up, "Yes. I desire it."