peanut butter
Jane is deemed fit to return to kitchen duty the next day, but mostly because everyone is tired of cooking for themselves. Mithos, however, has only gotten worse; on top of having a concussion, he is now laid up in bed with a head cold. He spends the day in the confines of the infirmary, alternately sleeping and vomiting. Jane is feeling just a little bit bitchy today so (even though Mithos made soup for her yesterday) she decides she'll make some really good peanut butter cookies, the kind she made Mithos for his birthday, the kind she knows he likes. And then she's going to eat them in front of him.
"Oh, hey Mithos," she says, sidling into the infirmary with a tray of cookies. "What a coincidence seeing you here."
"Yeah, it's not like I'm sick or anything," Mithos carps at her, his arms crossed. "What are you even doing in here?"
"Funny story that," Jane laughs, shoving another delectable cookie into her mouth. "I was just taking these cookies out to the courtyard." She gestures at the open set on infirmary doors that lead to her referenced location. A cool autumn breeze floats in, relieving them of the heat of early September in southern Tethe'alla. "I just happened to end up here instead. Silly me."
"I hate you so much."
"Nah, you love me." She tosses a cookie at him. "Just have one."
"I'll only throw it up."
"But it'll be worth it."