IN THE MORNING
MICHAEL
Morning light poured through the palace windows like the Goddess herself had decided to mock everyone still nursing emotional hangovers. Birds were chirping. Bells were chiming. Somewhere, a fountain was burbling serenely, possibly the same one Charlie had nearly drowned in last night. Zavier and I sat in the breakfast hall balcony overlooking the gardens, the two of us armed with coffee and sinful amounts of honeyed toast. He was half sprawled in his chair, hair a mess, shirt halfway unbuttoned, and smirking like the entire world was a private joke.
"Alright." I said, leaning on my elbow. "Recap. How many wars did we almost start last night?"
Zavier took a lazy sip of his coffee.
"Three, officially. Four if you count the one in Charlie's soul."Zavier said.
"Accurate." I said. "He looked like a saint having a nervous breakdown and a baptism at the same time."
Zavier chuckled low in his chest.
