The Funeral Style

Chapter Twenty Six

 thanks for being patient and reading this filler chapter. I have future chapters written already but I need to get up to those points first.

Yay for filler chapters

Chapter Twenty Six

I opened my eyes, still half asleep, only to be greeted with a different setting than my own bedroom. And then I remembered where I was, and how I had fallen asleep here in the first place.

I quickly shot up into a sitting positing, and looked around. Mr. Parity was sitting beside me, awake, with a cigarette in his hand. It was lit, with smoke subtly coming out of the end.

He glanced over at me, noticing my confused look, "Good morning, you are a very heavy sleeper."

I stared at him, slowly coming to realization that I was okay, and that nothing happened to me whilst I had practically blacked out from exhaustion.

I yawned and ran my hand through my hair, "You saw I had fallen asleep and you didn't bother to wake me up?"

He took a breath of smoke and exhaled it towards my face, making me cough, "I didn't want to bother you." He said matter-of-factly, as he leaned back casually. "You seemed tired."

I was, I am, and it's all his fault. 

He's been practically obsessing over the whole 'Me pretending to be his wife' thing. If I knew it'd be this important, I probably would have rethought the whole accepting idea.

All day yesterday I heard nothing but the words "My wife should do this. My wife wouldn't do that. My wife would do this but in a complicated way." It was all complicated if you asked me. He even made me wear heals and walk around the cemetery a couple times to (in his words) 'Get the opulent feel of a wealthy spouse.' 

I looked at him for a long moment, before clasping my hands together and standing up, "Well, I need to go home." My parents were so going to kill me.

"No need." He said with another exhale, "You're already here. No point in leaving when you'll have to come straight back."

"You said I could have Sundays off." I protested, realizing I should have made sure he kept his word.

"You will, once the task is complete." He stood up along with me, "Now get in your outfit, the rest of the women will be here shortly."

I gave him a cold look, before I allowed defeat and headed for the dressing room where I put on my usual cemetery dress, and fixed my hair. I had come to peace with the fact that I was never going to win in a dispute with the great Elias Parity. What he says goes, and I should just get over it.

It's not like my home is any better than this hell anyway.

When I had came back out to the entrance room, I saw that Mr. Parity was gone. Though left in his place was the strong smell of cigarettes and cologne. I tried to look around for him, but he was out of sight.

"Elias?" I called out, as I looked in the kitchen, and down in the flower room. It wasn't until I walked back into the entrance of the building that I remembered his usual hideout room down in the basement.

I slowly walked down the corridor, to see the door half opened. Peeking my head in, I saw him sitting in his usual chair, with his feet on the table, he was smoking again, another cigarette. My lungs began to almost physically feel in pain as I watched him inhale more and more of the smoke. He was killing himself in such a harmless way. It truly hurt to watch.

He noticed me, and beckoned me in the room with a frown. I walked in, and pointed at the cigarette, the practical death invention. "When we first met, you hardly smoked but one cigarette, now it seems you're smoking a whole box a day, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He shrugged his shoulders, but said not a word. Annoyed, I grabbed it out of his hand, and threw it on the concrete floor, stepping on it during the process. He stared at the cigarette, then at me, "I don't suppose you're angry at me for doing what I am free to do, are you?"

"I don't suppose I am." I said whilst crossing my arms. "I just really hate the smell." It's not that I hated cigarettes, I mean, I do, I just don't care if people smoke them. 

But seeing him smoke, a man like him, it just didn't make sense to me. You can see someone out on the street corner, smoking a cigarette or two, and you'd just think 'hey are doing it because they like it' and you move on. But as I watch Elias get more and more addicted to them, I see him do it because he doesn't have any other way to cope with the hell of a life he has created for himself.

And it annoys me to no end.

"It's privilege, Miss Adler." He stated as he began taking another cigarette out of the box and lighting it with his silver lighter, "Bear in mind it is my body and what I do with it, is up to my own wishes."

"Yeah? Well I also have a body, and yet you still tell me what to do. So if you're going to force me to work here, then don't force me to smell that garbage."

"Then don't inhale." He retorted, as he gave me a cruel glance. "Once you state yourself as my wife, we both will have to change ourselves. Cigarettes is my leverage. So be kindly and respect the thing that will get us both through the upcoming days."

I couldn't believe it. He was acting so rude not because he was annoyed.

But because he was incredibly nervous.

I've never seen him act this way before. Though, I also have never seen him fret over something so greatly before. 

What was it that he was so nervous about anyway?

Surely it won't be that bad, would it?

"Fine." I said though I was angry, I felt a bit sympathetic for him. "Let's just get back to practicing then."

He stared at me for a long moment, as if trying to comprehend why I gave up so easily. I noticed a such a strange look in his eyes that I couldn't quite read. After a moment, he slowly nodded his head. "Let us practice until you are perfect."