Coleen hated manual labour. Considering most labour was in a workforce, one she could not join for fear of being recognized, it was lucky enough. Yet Emil was right. She needed something to do. There were only so many time she could learn their house and fix all of their clothes and experiment with new meals that would taste like chocolate but be healthier.
Emil needed to live for as long as possible. As long as a mortal could. She realized she only extended the last days of his long torture, but they neared the end anyway. It had only been a few months, but in the scope of eternity another fifty years was definitely nearing the end for him.
She tried gardening and gave up after a week. Emil tutted, reminding her of the waste of all the supplies he had brought her. He pushed at her to continue and somehow it turned into his project. It was Emil with his short hair, wearing a sun hat that was supposed to be Coleen’s, puttering around in the dirt. Occasionally he would turn to yell at her. Tell her to come out and join him.
Coleen stayed inside and watched him. She hated his new hairstyle. It looked so much like Alton’s hair, reminded her so much of Alton and that threatened to twist her apathy into something resembling an emotion.
Then again, his last hairstyle had started to remind her of Lorene. And thinking of Lorene made her want to feel like crying. Because Lorene deserved those tears. She deserved that and so much more.