Irene opened the fridge the fluorescent lights illuminated her prize. A pâtisserie had just opened up down the way, and almost immediately it was a hit. Even being the early riser, she was Irene could never seem to get there in time.
Anna, however, must have worked on the owner or, possibly an employee, because nothing was ever out for her from eclairs to fruit tarts. And people thought Irene was cunning. One slip of Anna's honeyed tongue and everyone melted. It was more duplicitous; not that anyone would see it her way. Irene did not mind Anna stretching the truth or flirting with pastry chefs to get her way. It was that she was so reticent to share her spoils. Smug smiles and teasing japes had become the norm in their household. Not that they weren't before, but every time she came up empty it became increasingly difficult to form a rebuttal.
She pulled the paper box out of the fridge with care. The packaging was tasteful, managing to be both cute and elegant simultaneously. Sparing no care, she opened it to reveal her prize. A Mont Blanc with a velvet smooth texture, an eclair loaded with rich chocolate ganache, or a fruit tart bursting with berries? She would say that the possibilities were endless, but the box was not that big. Anything would be fine, really; as long as it was not a cupcake. Anybody who would go to a pâtisserie and buy a cupcake would just be cruel. Even Anna was above such tricks. Was she?
Her hands halted as she eyed the container. A pastry box left unguarded in the fridge, untouched — an awfully convenient turn of events to be sure. Almost, as if, someone wanted her to open the box. Pristine pearl white packaging gleamed under the island light; Not a scuff in sight. The contents, although unseen, taunted Irene. Then again even a cupcake would make for a suitable consolation.
Her worrying was all for naught she realized as she gazed down at the cream puffs. Three in a perfect line. She settled to savor her prize. Two cream puffs down, and the front door opened. Anna appeared in the foyer.
"You're a monster!" Anna gasped in a terrible feign of mock offense, but her eyes belied the truth as she mocked stomping over. Hands on her hips. Irene glanced from the puff to the pout on Anna's lips. A slow smirk crept up her own. Her wife's eyes narrowed. "You better not...hey!"
She swallowed as she watched Anna go through the seven stages of grief with smug satisfaction, shock, and anger mostly before she turned on her heel leaving the room in a huff. Arms crossed and pouting.
Perhaps it would be better to make amends sooner rather than later. Her prize now a mere afterthought Irene followed her outside. The blonde was pulling a package out of the car. Sneaking around behind her Irene wrapped her arms around Anna's waist. Glancing down she could not believe her eyes. "Quite a reaction from someone from someone who already had their own."
"Hmpf, well," Anna turned to look at her schooling her face as to not appear smug, "I was going to take pity on you. Now...I'm not sure I should."
"Sharing would be the diplomatic thing to do especially considering the apology I had planned."
"And encourage theft?"
"If I've made amends obviously I have learned the error of my ways."
"It's odd,"-Anna tilted her head while pressing a finger to her lips-"I'm hearing so much talk of apologizing, and yet, there's been no apology."
She pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I apologize, if you could find it in your heart to bestow upon me whatever's in that pastry box, I would be ever grateful."
Anna let out a melodic laugh. Turning to press a quick kiss to her lips she relented, "this time, you don't think you will be so lucky in the future."