Prompt #28: Cordelia wonders if it would be appropriate to fall in love with her pupil, while Misty tries to make a move that involves cooking dinner for the headmistress.


CORDELIA'S POV

Sometimes life surprises you with the most strange but sweet moments, sometimes with the most incoherent but perfect situations, sometimes with awkward and poorly-written scenes of the parody that is your life. But there's always something –or someone– that makes you smile and feel happy. And that's what happened that night with Misty in the living room.

The girls had left the house to go out to a club, leaving us alone, and I honestly didn't expect what happened. We had spent our afternoon, and early evening in the greenhouse, taking care of the plants and cutting fruits and herbs for my potions, when I heard her stomach growl.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, a raised eyebrow and a smirk on my face. She looked up from the plant she was reviving and nodded slightly, visibly ashamed. "It's okay; we can continue this tomorrow. Also, we could order pizza or something if you want."

"Can we cook? I used to cook when I lived in the swamp and I feel kinda homesick."

"Oh, okay. Do you want something specific or shall we see what's in the fridge and improvise something?"

"Have you ever tried Cajun shrimp and rice?"

"No, I haven't."

"Oh, then I'll have to cook it for you, it's delicious!"

"Misty, I don't know if we've got the ingredients…" I muttered. It wasn't that I didn't want to taste that recipe, but I had to admit that Misty wasn't good in the kitchen. Everything was delicious to her, but I couldn't even stand the pancakes she made –or at least tried to make– every morning. Also, she always left everything scattered around the kitchen. Not that I hated that, I actually liked it –it gave me an excuse to spend more time with her, and I would always tell her that I could help her clean the mess just to see that wonderful smile of hers and the way the shawls and clothes she wore caressed her beautiful, soft skin. I adored her nose, and the way her eyes brightened when she succeeded in her incantations. I loved the way her curls cascaded on her shoulders, and how she tiptoed to the kitchen to steal bagels when she thought no one was awake. I worshiped the way her hips moved when she danced to Stevie's songs, and how her fingertips caressed the petals of the greenhouse flowers every time she watered them.

I had realized that I was in love with Misty a week before that night, but I didn't know if my feelings were reciprocated. It was true she had always shown some kind of interest for me –I honestly didn't know why, I am not special– but she always seemed to be happy to help me when I needed it. She quickly offered to help me carry things when I asked for help or when I had to get something from the higher shelves, and she had been there for me since the first night she had passed in the academy. That night she had helped me change clothes, but she had decided to turn around when I was in my underwear –she didn't want me to feel embarrassed, a thing that I really appreciated, considering the fact that I had always been really self-conscious about my body– and then had helped me to get in bed before wishing me a good night sleep and walking out of the room. The next days had been almost the same, with her guiding me through the house and taking care of me. I didn't know why, but I just hoped she didn't think she was in debt with me. I hoped that what the girls said was true, that I had become her best friend and she had become mine. And at the same time I wanted to know if there was something more –the girls also said that Misty adored me, but what kind of adoration were they talking about?

"I actually went to the grocery store this morning to buy the ingredients." she confessed, looking at me with her sweet gaze, and smiling widely. I smiled back, but was unable to say a word when I felt her hand wrap around mine and intertwine her fingers with mine before quickly dragging me to the kitchen. Sometimes it felt hard to believe how a young woman –who actually was more than twenty years old– could act like a five-year-old girl with new shoes. But the fact was that I loved that juvenile way to move and talk. It was refreshing. She made me feel like a teenage girl who has discovered the wonders of love. I remember the last time I felt like this, with Hank, but it was somehow different. I was madly in love with him, that was true, but I didn't feel as alive as Misty made me feel. I wondered if the stories that Lucinde –my ancient childhood caretaker– told me were actually true.

Lucinde used to explain that witches like us had always had some kind of soul mate. My favorite stories were the ones related to Chinese philosophy, especially the ones that served to explain Yin and Yang. The tales always explained the ways that two lovers –that represented the opposite forces that were interconnected in the natural world and gave rise to each other as they interrelated– fought hard to be together. Most times the characters of the stories had names of dualities –Light and Dark, Fire and Water, Life and Death, Sun and Moon and a lot more– what had helped me to realize that sometimes Yin and Yang wasn't about opposing forces, but complementary ones that couldn't exist without each other. What if Misty Day was my complementary force?

I tossed those thoughts aside, knowing that it was inappropriate for me to fall in love with my student. Yes, Misty was both protégée and friend –and she was older than the other girls–, but technically she was still my pupil. It was wrong. Her hand left mine and she opened one of the cupboards, revealing that she had actually gone to the grocery store and bought every single ingredient they needed. It seemed that she had planned everything, the girls going out, the perfect afternoon taking care of the plants and listening to Stevie, and then the dinner. What was going on?


MISTY'S POV

Cordelia Foxx was someone that I had always found mysterious; ever since the day she touched my hands and told me that she was going to protect me. Well, she didn't say she was going to protect me, but that's what I felt she had said. Every time I was with her I didn't think about the burn scars on my body, or about my shack and my garden, or the poor gators that I have had to leave behind living on their own. I didn't think about the lifeless way I had felt for years. Sure I was happy in my swamp; I loved my garden, and the freedom and peace that the place gave to me. I loved sitting in the sun and hearing the bugs pass by. But I was alone and always felt like something was empty. She made me forget about all that. Cordelia felt like home to me.

And here I was, trying to cook my favorite meal for her. My mama had always cooked it for special occasions, like when I got an A+ at school, and I hadn't ate it since they had burned me alive. I knew that my cooking skills weren't especially great, and to be honest I just hoped that Cordelia would help me. As I read the directions on the rice package, I glanced at her and observed how she had leaned on the kitchen table and eyed that morning's newspaper, her elbows on the table and her head resting on one of her delicate hands. I loved when she did that. Her straight hair fell on the side of her face, and she raised her hand to toss it aside and readjust her glasses, making me realize that I hadn't seen her wear them before. She obviously didn't need them when I got here, and she hadn't used them when she got her vision back. I could swear they only made her brown eyes even more intense. Her lips pursed in some kind of funny way that stunned me, and I could see her mother's necklace wonderfully placed on her skin, half hidden under her blouse's neck. The soft white fabric seemed to stroke her collarbone and shoulders with effortless grace, and the sight of her black bra, moderately visible under the thin piece of clothing, made my legs feel shaky. I tried to look away, but that night she wore a black pencil skirt and I couldn't stop admiring the curve of her back and the way her legs seemed to be endless. I had always thought she was an inch shorter than me, but that day she was wearing flat shoes and I noticed that she was actually even shorter. I smiled. She looked so fragile, like a china doll, but at the same time she looked so… hot. That was the word. She looked hot. She always looked hot, to be honest, but today she looked practically perfect in almost every way. She raised her gaze from the paper and I felt her eyes meet mine for a second, before I quickly tried to focus on the rice directions that I had forgotten.

"Do you need help?" she asked, leaving the newspaper aside and approaching me.

"No, I just…"

"Come on, let me help you." she said with a smile.


CORDELIA'S POV

After helping Misty cook –if helping meant 'doing all the dirty work as Misty distracts me with her smile and her hip movements as she sings Sorcerer'– we moved to the dining room and ate the food. Misty kept praising my cooking skills, saying that the rice was amazing, but I felt like it was too salty. Or was it that I was too nervous to realize that I actually was good at something? Sure, I was the Supreme, and I had organized the school pretty well, but my confidence still wasn't recovered from so many years of verbal abuse. That was something that I still blamed both on my mother and me. If she had been a normal mother, and if I had been stronger, I wouldn't be like this. And though my new council (Zoe, Misty and Queenie) supported and helped me whenever I felt weak, sometimes I still needed to go to my room and cry for hours. Sometimes I could feel a witch's presence behind the door, wanting to check if I was okay –most of the time it was Misty, unable to decide if she could enter or not– but no one dared to enter. Life without Myrtle's advice had become harder, although Misty's help had balanced that fact. Misty, I thought as I finished the food on my plate, she's always been there for me, since the moment she got here.

"Do you want dessert? I think there's cheesecake in the fridge, and it's delicious!" I got our empty dishes and walked into the kitchen, stumbling into one of the chairs. God, how much wine did I have?

"Are you okay, Cordelia? You are kinda tipsy!" she laughed. "I bought ice cream. My mama always gave me money to go to the city and buy Fat Boy Ice Cream Sandwiches. They were awful!"

"That was nice of her." I said in an attempt to regain my composure. This is so inappropriate.

"It was only so she and papa could be alone." she explained, shrugging her shoulders as she took the ice cream out of the freezer. I smiled as I saw she had not only bought one ice cream container but two. "Although sometimes they didn't care I was at home." she added, making my smile instantly disappear. I took two spoons and followed the swamp witch to the living room, trying to resist the urge to tell her that I was clumsy and didn't want to stain the wonderful white couch with the ice cream.

"I remember you said you liked macadamia nuts," she said, jumping into the couch and quickly taking a spoon before continuing her talk. "and I have never tried them so I also bought chocolate ice cream. I hope it is okay." And then she did that. She gave me the look. I didn't know how she did it, but every time she thought she might have done something wrong she just smiled slightly, letting her eyes sparkle with excitement and sheer joy. Whenever she smiled I felt that no words needed to be said, although I managed to say something.

"That's very sweet of you, Misty. Thank you."

"Can I try some of that macadamia stuff?" she said, leaving her container on the coffee table.

"Yeah, of course." I answered with a smile, as I took another spoonful of ice cream. It was then when she snatched the spoon out of my mouth and pressed her lips with mine, quickly slipping her tongue into my mouth. At first I was too stunned to react, but as soon as I felt her fingers tangling in my hair courage flooded my veins and I reciprocated. She tasted like chocolate, and though I had always disliked the strong cocoa flavor I couldn't pull apart. And I just didn't want to. She pushed me against the couch and sat on my lap with her legs on my sides, the spoons quickly being left forgotten between the couch cushions. I unconsciously placed my hands on her back, pulling her impossibly close. It was strange to me how some minutes before I had been having an internal argument with myself about the appropriateness of falling in love with her and now she was literally on me. When we pulled apart, her green eyes seemed to sparkle even more than they usually did, and I could only focus on the way her lips shaped into a smile before whispering.

"Tasty."


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