❝𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓼❞☾ quick and cheesy , bitesized chapters about your favourite comfort characters.
--make me not wanna
die, love me rough and
let me fly, don't be a
waste of my time
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Is this the recipe for disaster? Yes. Yes it is. (dating) ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
You groggily stumbled over to the main hall not sure where you were going. You had been tossing and turning the whole morning, refusing to wake up and hoping you would fall back asleep. Wiping your creased eyelids with a cold hand, you observed the main dining hall. Golden sunlight was streaming through the translucent curtains, the second layer of velvet curtains already drawn open. You guessed it was probably Emily or Norton who had drawn them open, as they tended to wake up at early hours.
Emma had requested you yesterday night to come meet her in the dining hall in the morning - you were quite concerned as most ideas that came from this woman were either ridiculously weird and funny, or just cute and romantic. She always had odd ways to show her affection towards you, but you knew it was genuine.
"(Y/n)! Hey!" A honeyed and animated voice called. You turned, hastily fixing your messed hair and smoothing down your nightwear. She waved at you frantically, a tray in one of her hands. She gestured you over with a gleaming smile as you trudged over, half amused and half-tired. Giving you a brief kiss on the cheek as a greeting, she pushed a chair for you to sit down on.
Readily, you plopped yourself down on the heavy chair, adjusting the quilted pillow onto your lap. She set her tray onto the table, a bowl of frothy liquid steaming slightly. It looked like a creamy broth of vegetables and tiny flakes of celery. "Emma, this looks good!" You gasped, as she gave you a polished spoon. "I made you soup! I've never really cooked for you before, so I thought today would be a nice surprise," She giggles, handing you a spoon and you gladly use it.
An odd smell came from the soup, as you brang the spoon to your face. Giving her a suspicious look, you slurped some of it down.
You almost choked, the soup tasting like rotten eggs and dessicated fish. Immediately you put the dish down, as Emma awaited your response excitedly. The odd smell still stang your nose. You looked at her, eyes widened as you tried to determine your approach. You wonder if she ever cooked at ALL - should you sugar-coat your words or give her criticism? Either option sounded like it would have a horrible aftermath either way.
The bubbly gardener continued to lean forwards onto the table, her features stretched in an adoring expression. "So, how was it?" She simpered, gazing at you with verdant green eyes. You wiped your mouth with a frilled napkin, swallowing the putrid liquid down your throat. For a few moments you tried to pull your face in a thoughtfull expression, as you noticeably drank alot of water from your glass.
"It's... okay. It could be better-" You started to reply, your face blank.
"It's 'okay'? Is it not good?" Emma breathed slightly taken aback, as she moved herself from the table, placing her arms timidly on her lap. You seethed through your teeth quietly, mouth widening as you were about to reply otherwise when the girl nonchalantly cleaned your side of the table, hurriedly shoving the cutlery into the bowl. "Ah I see! If it doesn't taste good, I'll go make you another one (Y/n) - and this time, we'll do it together!! It'll be so much fun, no?" Emma's freckled cheeks bloomed rosy in excitement as she put the discarded dishes onto an ornament tray. Hurriedly, she balanced the tray with one of her hands, grabbing your arm and pulling you upwards as you sputtered your drink, surprised.
