'tis the season (to love you)

CHAPTER FIVE

"Well, that's a sight for sore eyes."

God, the dramatics of it all. Brett rolls his eyes, following Eddy's line of sight where it's aimed at the traffic signs signalling their approach to Lamerra. There's an endless stretch of empty landscape on either side of the road, save for a few trees dotting the snowflake-sheet ground, and fine, he can understand where the complaint is coming from. Still, he's curious. "Yeah? How so?"

"I was getting tired of looking at snow," Eddy says, and what? That's such an alien thing to say. He will judge his friend for it, thanks.

"Bro, who the fuck gets tired of snow? It's exciting, it's wet—"

"Oh yeah, I'm definitely interested in exciting, wet things," Eddy deadpans, and Brett can't help himself: he throws his head back against the headrest and laughs so hard, he thinks he might have torn a muscle in his stomach or something. His hands slide off the wheel for a few seconds, but they are promptly slapped back to their rightful position by the other man. "Mind the road, you idiot!"

He's gasping for breath, air just suddenly gone, but somehow, he manages to blurt out proper words. "Sorry—sorry! Oh my god, you're such a bastard." Brett shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm still so fucking happy you're here."

Eddy looks at him, then. He's looking at him like he's never seen him before, and that's—that's not disconcerting at all, nope. Brett manages not to twitch at the sudden pause before Eddy smirks and turns his head away. "Yeah, yeah, I'm amazing. Now, if you could kindly not kill us before we get there? I didn't go all this way with you to get thrown into a ditch."

The smile on his face refuses to fade anytime soon, and so he allows it to stay. He probably looks like a loon, but who the fuck cares.

• • •

When Brett had been a child, he had wondered about Lamerra. There's something mystical about the town, almost like a world beyond the touch of the passage of time, and now that he's returned after about a year or so, it still looks exactly the same as when he had last left it back then. There's the same old library, the same old cafe, the same old public park. It's a little weird, to say the least.

His confusion must've been plain as day on his face, because the next thing he knows, Eddy's tapping his shoulder with a concerned look. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it's just—it's like nothing's changed 'round here."

"Maybe that's a good thing?" Eddy shrugs, turning his gaze back to his phone. "Some things are better off staying the same way they are. Feels safer that way, I suppose."

(It's as if they're having two different conversations. He doesn't really know what to say to that.)

Brett shakes off the uncertain feeling that threatens to grip him and mirrors Eddy's shrug. "Maybe. At least I still know where to get my experimental coffee fix," he chuckles, waving at a particular coffeeshop as they pass by. The golden lettering of the ornate sign spells Gypsy Commons, and despite the uncommon moniker, Brett thinks it fits Lamerra's vibe well, with the whole artsy, unearthly style of the place. "They brew the weirdest flavors, but they're all so fucking good."

As expected, the mere mention of coffee rouses Eddy into a look of interest. Of course it would. "Bro. We gotta check it out sometime this week," he says, and yeah, Brett's got no complaints there.

"It's a date, then." He grins, relishing the monotonous hah Eddy sends his way.

The sun is just beginning to fall behind the white-peaked horizon when they pull up into an empty path of patchwork stones and bricks, a stark contrast to the snow-covered roads they've taken to get here. The sprawling mansion looms in the distance, its facade stately and ornate but ultimately—kinda lonely. Brett knows his grandmother can afford caretakers for her estate, but aside from these fleeting moments of human interaction, she lives alone. It's a life he can't imagine could be anything close to happy, but she seems content enough to live in solitude.