Larceny

56.

Author's Note,

Hey loves Jaz here, 

This has been quite the wild ride! All the feedback I've gotten back on this story has been amazing. I love hearing what you all come up with while you reading this story and I love talking with you all. You all make my day when you leave comments for me XD.  I CAN'T BELIEVE all the love I've gotten from all you Hooligans because of this stroy. Thank you so much for staying with me through all of my writers block and posting dry-spells. It's been a journey I've been happy to take with you all. This last chapter to dedicated to you! 

Now without further ado, here is the final chapter of 'Larceny'.

-Jaz

________

B

Yawning I blink slowly and rub my eyes until I feel as though the sleep is finally starting to slip away. As my vision clears I see a kitchen I don't fully recognize before me. Dark aqua tiles cover three quarters of the white walls, henna colored wood cabinets hand on several of the walls match the floor beneath are counters that have ivory marble tops. I look down to see the floor beneath my bare feet is of a slight lighter wood color. I'm seated an an island that matches the counters on a simple wood and metal bar-stool with a back rest. I take a deep breath and the smell that wafts into my nostrils is one I've know since childhood. I look down at the counter. On simple white plate before me is a is a double stack of pancakes and three slices of Spam. There's a glass orange juice to my left and a mug, which my nose tells me must be coffee next to it. I start to reach for one of them when I hear the light padding of bare footsteps coming toward me. I look in the direction of the person only see their back is turned.

She has long dark brown, nearly black wavy hair that falls two or three inches past the middle of her back. From the angle I'm sitting at, I can see one of her ears that her hair is tucked behind. She is a tan variety of fair but lighter than I am. She's dressed in black leggings and an over-sized long sleeved olive green top but on account of the clothing she's wearing, I can't quite make out her form. She turns to me and I recognize her face immediately.

El.

She looks older and curvier than I remember. There's little evidence of crows feet at the outer corners of her eyes but the rest of her face appears untouched. Something about her almond shaped dark brown eyes shows that some time has passed but I can't quite place how much. Her hands are clasped around a mug with mountains engraved on the side. She lifts the mug to her lips and has a sip.

"Morning."

"Morning," I replay without thinking.

"Are you gonna eat?" she asks gesturing to my plate. Suddenly there are more footsteps, this time, it seems like more than one pair. Elinea swiftly crosses the kitchen to the fridge. I watch the door way to her right until the source of the footsteps comes into view.

The kids. Those kids, the ones who helped me escape. His hazel eyes and her dark brown eyes are unmistakable. She dressed similarly to Elinea in black leggings but with ribbon like ties near her ankles. On top she's wearing a light grey cropped sweater and her long dark brown hair is in a high ponytail with what must be her bangs pinned back on top of her head out of her face. She fairer than I am, closer to Elinea's skin tone but the boy is closer to mine. He is dressed in grey joggers with a white tank top beneath a light blue dress shirt on top rolled up to his elbows. His hair is cut short just enough to see his curl pattern, that appears to be much like mine from what I can see at this distance.

"Morning mom," the boy says softly as he enters the kitchen. He wraps one arm around her shoulders and briefly presses his lips to her cheek. Elinea muses a 'morning' back. The girl gives her a little squeeze at which she smiles. The girls's eyes meet mine and she crosses the kitchen to me and kisses my cheek.