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Chapter 823 - 823 A Listless Time



Dinner was a splendid affair. With Ash at the helm frying and stirring batches of tender, love, and care, how could it not be?

In fact, it’s a real, rational fear of mine that there would come a day when it becomes impossible for me to settle for any less than Ash’s cooking – and without her, I’d just outright starve to death.

Good thing I got Amanda to lean on should it ever come to that. I’m gonna be eating just fine.

Just realized how snobby that sounded. Look at me – freakin’ pampered, spoiled prince. Oh, don’t I just wanna punch my face right about now…

Any volunteers?

Aside from that Ash seemed to have taken with her a lot of enthusiasm for movie magic during her time on set. From the highway ’till we were finally homebound, I played the novice teacher to a very impromptu, very in-depth filming 101 course.

So her newfound interest in mind, what did I do next? That’s right, I got ‘Cars’ playing on the big screen as we ate. Lightning McQueen doing laps around our living room while Ash was over here looking like dear Alice in her wonderland – ears fluttering energetically at the roar of every engine faster than any one of those cars on screen.

Can never go wrong with the classics.

.....

Besides, it kinda helps mitigate the even more silent silence of Sera’s absence.

Adalia wasn’t as into it, however. Just munching, chewing, one tiny morsel of food after the other, treating everything else that wasn’t on her plate as simple ambient noise with no particular exception – or so I thought until suddenly she lifted her gaze and met mine.

“You want… to say something… again…” she said, the murky swirl in her eyes once again so creepily clairvoyant. “I am… listening…”

It was just for a moment – a silence – watching Ash stumped in awe at the tournament’s legendary three-way tie, then I flicked back at Adalia, thought for another moment, and shook my head casually.

“Just Amelia,” I said, forking down a chunk of potato. “Your sister’s an actress now apparently. Can you believe it? Did you know about it?”

“Act…ress…” she whispered, slowly lowering her gaze back to her plate. “I did not… know…”

“Tyler talked her into it. Somehow.”

“Tyler…” she paused. “Did you… meet her…?”

“Talked to her too, yeah.”

“A…bout…?”

“You, me,” I bite down onto my fork, chewing the potato piece whole. “The usual spiel, y’know.”

“What is… the usual…?”

Nothing gets past this girl, does it?

“Mmm, well…” I took a gulp of water. “She found out you and I were in the building the other night. You can pretty much tell where this is going…”

“Oh…” she said, sounding a little dismayed. “I see…”

And with the slight clatter of her silverware, Adalia went back to eating in her own little world of she, herself, and her.

In the corner of my eye, I caught the distinct flash of green peering at me every so warily and curiously… but evidently deciding against it, Ash turned back to the television and didn’t say a single word.

Frankly, I didn’t see a point in bugging any single one of them with what was bugging me – the point that Amelia had raised. Because haven’t I already heard it all before? Haven’t they? I say a word, and the cycle just simply starts anew.

They’ll say it won’t matter, they’ll say they wouldn’t care. Just as they have so many times over. And really, they’re right about it.

Because if you’re in love that deeply, why have any doubts? If I did really love them all the same – then why would I?

Amelia has the right to worry, she does. I’ll also not deny that her concerns are not entirely unfounded. That’s okay. It simply means that the obligation lies with me to prove her wrong.

And I will.

The following day continued on with the streak of uneventful events. I went to work that morning and left that afternoon with nothing of particular interest to note aside from the usual discrepancy.

Irene was still a no-show, and while I did think it strange that Amanda had also apparently decided to join her in her strange leave of absence – all was made promptly clear when she shot me a text a while later lamenting her hectic schedule, and after browsing a little through her social feed showed that she wasn’t kidding.

All day she’s been out in the freezing cold shooting her scenes for the movie. In nothing but her costume at that. My Amanda. In near sub-degree temperatures too. My poor Amanda.

I want to kill this director.

To my surprise though, and as if sensing my bloodlust, Amanda quickly clarified it was all volunteer on her part, and that’s when I finally realized she was as much a madwoman as he was a madman.

<<We’ve been waiting for weeks to get the perfect weather condition>> she explained. <<Sure it’s freezing like mad over here, but how can you pass up the perfect shot, right?>>

Shrug emoji.

That is all I had to say.

Shrug emoji.

<<Definitely gonna be leaving extra early this evening though. Extra early! I don’t care what the director says. After all, got to really, REALLY, prepare for tomorrow, I? ;)>>

Her eagerness was practically oozing out of my screen and dripping into my soul. Someone could win a billion dollars one day, and I think their delight would still pale in comparison to Amanda’s.

<<So tomorrow! Pick me up at 6, alright? Use your bike. I want to ride with you on bike, haven’t yet. It’s a disgrace.>>

<<Where do you even get your energy?>> I asked, baffled, bedridden in my room with Mr. Black curled atop my chest after only a single morning shift of bartending. <<You seriously not having any second thoughts about just staying home and relaxing tomorrow? The date can always wait.>>

<<What is this heresy I’m hearing?>> She shot back instantly. <<You honestly think I’m gonna take you up on that?>>

<<Just suggesting, Amanda.>>

<<Stop suggesting.>> She suggested to me. <<I’ll see you tomorrow~>>

And with a dozen kisses and hearts left in the wake of her reply, her phone went dark, and Amanda was gone.

Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.

No work to be heading off to, no pressing obligations for me to fulfill, no nothing at all to be seen, indeed. Tomorrow was just a void, an empty slate – a slate that Amanda would definitely fill to the brim.

Slowly, I turned over to my side, letting a slightly disgruntled Black fall to the edge of the bed, and peered blankly at the bedside drawer just ahead… and the small, little black box perched atop of it.

If all goes as planned, if this string of normalcy carries over from this day to the next, then it’s safe to say that tomorrow will be quite the evening indeed.

Fingers crossed, knock on wood, Amanda…

Christmas is finally coming.


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