LOCATION: the tempests’ tiny toronto kitchen TIME: 8:06 AM FOR: @thndrs
There are few better scents in this world than bacon sizzling on the stove–
—–or there WOULD be, if the damn burner would TURN ON.
Xavier lets out a growl and kicks at the oven with his socked foot. This is getting real old, real fast. He sighs and starts fiddling with it, blowing into the dirty burner piece in his hand, when he hears dull footsteps coming from the hallway. Like clockwork, his routine Saturday morning call reverberates throughout the tiny apartment:
“HEY! EGGS AND BACON, LET’S GET SHAKIN’!’”
The man sets the burner down in anticipation, resetting the stove and turning it on, and is gleefully greeted by a small, licking flame beneath the grate. “Oh, hell yeah!” Turning around to partake in a surely celebratory dance with his little brother, he glances at Zeke’s face and does not find the cheery, sunshine expression he is hoping for.
“Well, you’re some grouchy,” he grumbles. “Where were you at last night? You look like right shit, boy.”
