Arabelle Vine, a 22 year old photographer in Seattle Washington, is happy with her current life. She has friends, a great family, and a job she loves. But Arabelle wants to be more than just content with her life. She wants excitement, and she wants...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
Christmas was a mess.
I am currently hiding out in the bathroom while the monster that currently occupies the kitchen works on her fifth dessert.
Okay. Not an actual monster, but my sweet and loving girlfriend. Except she is not being very sweet and loving right now.
She woke me up at eight in the morning and we haven't stepped foot out of the kitchen since then. She's been shouting at me as she forces me to help her make dessert.
I don't know why she even wants me to help her if she's going to constantly shove me aside when I do something wrong.
Thank god her parents offered to make dinner or else I think she would have broken up with me at least three times over cooking something wrong.
"Roman." Arabelle knocks on the door, "you alright in there, baby? You've been in there a while."
"Yeah, I'm alright."
"Okay, well unless your throwing up or taking a shit, you need to get your ass back out here and roll out the pie crust."
What the fuck?
"Be right out, beautiful." I exit the bathroom and make my way back to hell, AKA our kitchen this fine Christmas Day.
She doesn't spare me a second glance as she places the three trays of cookies into the freezer. She made me throw out our ice cream, except the vanilla because that goes with the brownies, so she could make room for the desserts.
"The pie crust is right there in the bowl." She hands me a rolling pin, "take a chunk and roll it out nice and smooth, than hand it to me. After that I need you to cut strips to put on top, with this."
She hands me a tool with multiple pizza cutters on the end- at least that's what it looks like. I take it from her and examine it. If I fuck up this pie I might be sleeping on the couch tonight.
Christmas music plays on the t.v as we stand in the messy kitchen. The house smells of fresh baked pastries and pine from the Christmas tree.
If you were to walk into our home and see the Christmas decorations, the fire burning while Willow lays in front of it, and the two of us making dessert together, you would think this was a cozy environment. Unfortunately, that is not the case, at least in the kitchen.
"Roman!" Arabelle yells and shoved me away from the apple filling I was mixing, "you are doing it all wrong."
She grabs the bowl from me and begins to do the same exact thing I was previously doing.
"What should I do then because I keep doing everything wrong?"
"Just," she sighs and wipes her forehead with her hand, getting flour all over her face, "go shower and wrap the final presents that need to be wrapped. I can finish up here."
