"I told Oliver to have a change of clothes ready for you," Edwin told Felix, exhaustion evident in his tone. "Knowing him, he's probably on his way here already." He wished there was something more that he could do for Felix right then. The guy didn't need to offer to help move the body around, but he had, and in the end it was a lot easier to set up everything with two people, especially in the moments where Edwin remembered that what he was handling was, probably, Jerome.
As the resident goth kid, he felt like he should have been more prepared for this, at least in front of other people, but he'd only ever had a fascination with the idea of death. He'd never been the type to run out and buy taxidermy, or the real skulls, and it was one of his sisters who had been trying to get an internship at a funeral home, not him. This was too much. The way that the body was still warm from the first fire was unnerving, and Edwin didn't know if he'd ever get the smell out of his nose.
"I don't think I like this Stand By Me remake," he said suddenly, the joke feeling wrong on his tongue at that moment, but he didn't want to think about if Lennon would start the fire, and if he would be able to step in to do it if he couldn't. Looking down at his own hands, they were just as bloody as Felix's, and he realized that he probably couldn't light a match, either. He frowned as he glanced up at Lennon, shrugging as an apology.