Devil in Quarantine ~**FIRST HALF COMPLETE**~ Conclusion will be up in 3 days!

Chapter FiveDay Two

Tristan

Drinking my coffee, I watch Clara devour the pancakes in front of me like she's never had them in her whole life. I want to just come out and ask her where she went so early this morning, and with the gardening tools too. But I have a feeling she will just tell me to take a hike, and with good reason. It isn't my business, I know, but she seemed so sad when she came back home that I wanted to just console her, but knew she wouldn't want any of that. So I offered the next best thing it would seem, pancakes.

"Not only are you a good writer, but you can make some mean pancakes there, Tristan. I know you made them from scratch since I don't have a ready to mix box in the cupboards." Clara suffocates her pancakes in more maple syrup as she begrudgingly gives me her compliments.

"Thanks, I do enjoy cooking." Taking another sip of coffee, I watch her tongue the maple syrup gathered at the corner of her lips and I wish I could just give it a good lick there for her. She moves her long black hair behind her shoulder, trying to save it from the stickiness that seems to be everywhere now. I've never seen her with her hair down before and it softens her face, making her seem less serious than she always is. It hangs in waves, dark like a crow's feathers, shining, making my fingers itch to touch them.

"What else do you cook? Maybe I'll make you earn your keep by forcing you to cook my meals?" There's a hint of laughter and I'm glad to be the cause of it.

"I like to cook anything. My mom was never home growing up, so I kind of had to figure it out if I wanted to eat." I'm trying to make light of a shitty childhood, yet wincing at how pathetic I sounded I clear my throat and go to change the subject.

"So, according to my phone, there's an 80% chance of rain today. What time are we going to bale hay for since we can't bale wet hay?"

Clara sits back, wiping her mouth with a napkin, curious eyes questioning me, and folds her arms. "I know what you did just there, by the way. How would you know about rain and hay anyway?"

Having spewed enough of my sad childhood I decide to avoid the truth. "Google." It seems to work since she doesn't push further. 

"As for the rain thing, James is a friggin barometer. He's never been wrong and it's creepy. If he says to bale hay, we'll bale it. The rain will probably hold like it's done hundreds of times before."

"You guys work together often?" Ignoring the little voice in my head telling me to mind my fucking business, I still can't help myself. They seemed so comfortable together yesterday and it pissed me off.

"Oh yeah," Clara fidgets with her napkin. "We've known each other for ages. He rents some of my fields and I help him with them when he needs them and in return, I get food for my animals and money for my taxes. The land is expensive here and I refuse to sell off any."

"Sounds like a good deal."

"It is." Clara's lightheartedness from earlier seems to have disappeared and the line in the sand is back again. Sighing, I grab her plates and go to wash them in the sink.

"You don't have to do that, Tristan. You cooked, so it's fair I wash them."

"It's all good Clara, I'm an unwelcome guest trying to win points here." I wash the dishes, rinse them, and begin to place them within the rack to dry when I hear her get up from the table. Expecting her to leave since she normally can't get away from me fast enough, I'm surprised when her hand touches my arm.

"Let's say you won half the battle just now with those pancakes." Whispering, she smiles shyly before she picks up a dish towel and begins to dry the dishes.