"N-no, not quite," Pyra said, looking sideways to her. "So, did you start cooking because she wouldn't? And start cleaning because she wouldn't?" Crossette asked, poking at her omelet with a fork. Crossette took a seat next to Pyra and smiled, her cheeks bright. For herself, Crossette and Rex, a vegetable omelet for Mythra, a crabmeat one. The latter grabbed the rest of the plates in her arms and brought them to the table, setting one out for each of them. "But it's the truth, isn't it? What's wrong with that?" "Huh? But Mythra doesn't do anything except fight and be mean to people." "Actually, it's her I have to thank for it." Pyra slid the omelet off the pan and onto a plate, and handed it to her cook-cheerleader. "It's too bad Mythra doesn't like to do anything like that," Crossette said, crossing her arms.
"Well, I mean, I do love to cook."Īt the table, Mythra sighed and set her book down, cradling her chin in a hand propped up by the table.
Pyra shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. "I like watching you cook, Pyra, because you do all this extra special stuff when you do it!" "No, it was SUPER special! It was amazing!" The energetic girl cheered again, her horns alight with sparks. Just flipping the ome-" Pyra started, smiling. "Ooh! Wow! That was fancy, Pyra!" Crossette cheered, balling up her fists. With a sudden movement, she launched the omelet off the side of the pan and caught it again, now on its other side. Pyra shifted the pan back and forth, a folded pepper-and-onion omelet sliding around lazily within it. Mythra sat next to Rex at the table, while Pyra and Crossette prepared breakfast.
The scent of frying eggs, peppers and onions wafted from the kitchen into the living room, the rising sun beginning to paint the interior of Auntie Corinne's house a gentle yellow.
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