"𝑰 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑻𝑶 God." Ed was drumming his fingers on the wide-wood kitchen top with fervent impatience. "If they're up there━reproducing or whatever the heck it is you guys do━I swear I'm kissing a Griever the next time I see one."
Chuck was at the sink, drying plates, Minho was leaning against the surface with his arms folded, and Frypan was chopping vegetables. Ingredients were strewn everywhere; onions, small bunches of herbs tied up with string, piles of dried lentils and spices, a hunk of meat that was sitting in some kind of marinade. There was a huge pot on the roaring hob filled with bubbling water, steam was rising from it in curling tendrils. The air smelled like smoke and ripeness and grass and sunset. Frypan made a noise of disbelief. "That's disgusting."
"I know." Ed shot Emis a glare. "Making babies at a time like this. Who do you think you are?"
"Shut up, Ed." Frypan grumbled. He tossed the sliced potatoes into the pot with flourish. "I meant the kissing-a-Griever part."
Ed shook his head with absolute solemnity. "No, man. You didn't see them━they were all over each other. Like, like wild animals. It was disgusting."
"Give them a break, shuckface." Minho grimaced, as if he couldn't quite believe he'd said it. "Like you weren't 'all over' Ryan when━"
"Oh, shut the hell up." Ed cut in, face darkening. "That was━that was different. That wasn't━"
"Emis?" Chuck interrupted them with only a hint of irritation. "You okay?"
Emis had disappeared into her thoughts. Dark, whirling thoughts that were flashing images of people in lab coats and masks made of iron and her, Teresa, dark hair spilling like ink over her shoulders and a pale face that was distantly, but painfully familiar. Like looking at a reflection that was distorted and shattered in cracked glass; you knew it and it was familiar, but twisted and horrifyingly different to how it was supposed to look.
"Emis." Minho reached over and prodded her in the side. She jumped, jerking away from him as if he'd stung her. "What the hell is up with you?"
She blinked, shaking her head as if resurfacing from a dream. "I'm sorry." She smoothed her hands over her legs. "I got lost for a second, there."
"Are you feeling alright?" Ed was looking at her with a mildly hesitant expression. "You look like you're going to either pass out or sneeze."
She shook her head. "I'm fine, guys. Seriously." She hopped down from the counter. "Why wouldn't I be?"
