Title: Chocolate-Box
Author: Sarken (sarken@gmail.com)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Oh so obviously not mine.
Author's note: Written for my own 'Why Girls Like...' challenge, using the line how cute they are when they eat.
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"If we were married, would you stay up to bake me brownies?"
Startled, she dropped the spoon into the gooey brown mess before her. "Don't do that," she growled, turning to face the kitchen doorway. "I could have shot you."
He snorted and walked towards her. "Nah, you're not that good a shot." He reached around her and stuck his finger in the batter. "Not bad," he declared, sucking the chocolate off his finger.
She shot him a glare when he reached for more.
"Hey, you know what? It wouldn't kill Fred to lay off the brownies," he said, sticking his finger in the bowl once again.
"They're not for Fred." She grabbed a rubber spatula and began pouring the batter into the silver pan. "I used to come home and there would be love notes waiting for me. Now I come home and it's a note telling me Emily needs brownies for a bake sale to raise money for the semi, and, oh, by the way, she needs two hundred dollars for an outfit."
Although there was no more batter on his finger, he kept it in his mouth as he stared at her. Something in her voice had captured his attention and he could focus on nothing else.
She placed the bowl back on the counter and carried the pan over to the oven. "I love my family, but... Don't ever get married, Bosco." She returned to the counter and, steadying the bowl with one hand, ran her finger around the inside, scraping up some of the remaining chocolate.
"You regret it?" He reached for the bowl and mirrored her actions.
She sucked at her finger as she considered it. When she had her answer, she slipped it out and wiped it on her jeans, leaving a brown-tinged smudge. "Right now? Yeah, I guess, a little. In the morning I'll get over it. It's just... Standing here, like this, now, reminds me of everywhere I'm not. And I guess I'm a little sad and a little bitter."
"I've read that chocolate can help that. Feeling sad, I mean." Instead of placing his chocolate-covered finger in his mouth, he extended it to her.
She glanced at him quickly and noticed the way the kitchen's fluorescent light gave him a bluish glow. Then she ducked her head just enough to catch his finger in her mouth. She sucked on it and ran her tongue over it until she could taste only him. She pulled away and frowned. "I..."
"Hey, it's okay." He opened his arms to her, just enough so he could pretend he hadn't if she turned away. "Come here," he said, seeing her inch forward and then hesitate.
She stepped into his arms, closing her eyes. "I shouldn't want this."
"But you need it." He held her for a minute, until the edge of the counter began to dig painfully into his back. He released her and backed away.
Faith shivered at the loss of contact. "You're right."
(The next morning, the kitchen sparkled and a tray of brownies sat on that table.)
:end:
chocolate-box (adj) superficially pretty or sentimental (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)