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☾ 𝐸𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇
The sight of the early morning sun streaming through thin, lace curtains was a sight that Anna had never thought she would admire. It was a small detail, that her meticulous eye was always bound to meet, but as she remained flat in bed, she didn't just glance past it, she stared. The light fell golden upon her skin, making her sickly colour look tanned and healthy, which she surely would be in the matter of days in the new house. It was almost as if she was looking straight through it, her mind in a haze and eyes blurred from being close to true vision. It was a perfect trance of tranquility- one that wasn't easily broken.
Anna was startled by the changing of pots and pans in the kitchen that was situated right below her. Mrs Bagley has been up since six o'clock, attempting to make something on the stone. Anna had heard every minute of it, but hadn't gone done. She wouldn't want the woman to get attached to her any more than she already was.
She sat up slowly from the bed, her back still tender from the bruise. Her finger tips grazed the injured skin, the coolness of her touch adding little comfort.
As she emerged from the narrow stairwell, the smell of eggs and bacon filled her senses. The kitchen was overcome with a thick, white smoke when Anna entered it, yet the meat was surprisingly unburnt as it was placed on a plate to the side of the oven.
"Morning," Anna said, her voice small.
No attachment. She said it over and over in her head like a chanted curse.
"Good morning! I made breakfast."
Mrs Bagley beamed as she placed the plate in front of her, filled to brim with a cooked breakfast. Anna's mouth watered at the sight of it.
"Thank you."
It tasted as good as it looked and Anna was finished within minutes, waiting as Molly finished her own plate. She had to give it to the woman, she didn't look it, but she was a very good cook.
"Where's Mr Bagley?"
"He got called out to work, but he promised to take us to the beach when he gets back. He really wanted to be here," she said, her cup of tea cradled in her hands like a baby.
Anna nodded. She was stuck for what to say as the woman continued to eat her breakfast. She knew Mrs Bagley wanted to blurt out as many questions as she could think of, but after the previous evening, she probably felt like it would scare her off. Anna could reassure her, tell her to ask what she needed, but she didn't feel like answering questions or talking about her self, and doing so would ultimately lead to her new family knowing more about her. And the more they knew, the harder it would be to leave. Anna knew that from experience.
So, instead of talking, Anna chose to watch- though not creepily. She noticed how Mrs Bagley lifted her spoon timidly, her fingers shaking as the food was brought to her lips. In fact, both of her hands shook. It was all the time too, she saw, even as they moved to tighten the pins in her fluffy, brown hair.
