primadonna girl || wilbur soot

Chapter Sixty

[REAL LIFE]

The doorbell rings loudly and Clara perks up at the sound, flouncing peppily to go open the door for whoever is at it.

"Hey, Clara!"

Clara brightens. "Phil!" She immediately pulls him into a hug, towering over him at her height. When they part, Clara turns her attention to the brunette woman by Phil's side who's holding a Tupperware container. "Oh my god, Kristin? In the flesh?"

The woman nods, beaming. "Yes, that's me!"

"Oh yay! I've wanted to meet you for so long now! Can I hug you?"

"Please do!" Kristin passes off the container to Phil who's watching her with shining eyes. Clara quickly hugs her, Kristin's warm arms enveloping the girl.

"Please come in, come in."

The married couple obliges, shutting the door behind them as they start pulling off their shoes.

"Mum and Dad are here!" Clara calls to the kitchen.

At this, Tommy instantly pops his head out. "Mumza and dadza?"

"Hi, Tommy!" Kristin waves excitedly.

"Phil's wife! Hello!" Tommy bounds over to her and embraces her before doing the same to Phil. "Hello Philza Minecraft. Did you have to bring your wife here to flaunt your happiness and superiority? It's disrespectful to my beliefs."

Phil chuckles and shakes his head before turning to Clara. "We brought some chickpea salad."

"Not sure if it has stayed good after a five-hour train ride, but we can hope!" Kristin says, shrugging.

Clara takes the Tupperware from Phil, smiling. "I'm sure it'll be delectable. And in any case, it's the thought that counts!"

"Ummm, Clara?" An unsure shout comes from the kitchen. "I may have done something wrong."

Clara rolls her eyes with a smirk. "Duty calls. I've got to go put out a fire."

"Hopefully not a literal one," Phil jokes. "Where's George?"

"Sofa in the living room with my friend Salem. They're both banned from the kitchen after George chucked shredded cheese at Salem's face and ended up knocking over the pot of potatoes."

Phil snorts before heading over to the living room with Kristin to say hello and see what's on the television.

Clara journeys over to the kitchen, fixing the apron that's tied around her waist. "What's up, darling?"

Wilbur turns away from the stovetop, pouting slightly, looking very out of his element. He's got Clara's full-body extra apron on; the background is solid blue with the words "real men don't need recipes" written in white, flexed bicep pictured below the text. It's Clara's favorite, next to the one that has "always use protection" written on it with an image of oven mitts.

"I messed up." Wilbur looks so surreally sad and broken at this fact that Clara almost giggles.

"With what?" Clara's eyes soften as she smiles at him. She's never found him cuter than at this moment.

Honestly, Wilbur doesn't really know how to cook. Like at all. But he really wanted to help out Clara, just to do something extra to prove that he loves her. He shopped and paid for all the ingredients for today, got her flowers, and made it a point to shower her with compliments and kisses.

Clara thinks that maybe he should piss her off more often if she gets this treatment out of it.

Silently, Wilbur moves to the side to show the pot behind him to his girlfriend. It is now very obvious to Clara that the water is rapidly boiling over and spilling out of the sides.