Written in response to Mamono's challenge. Theme #1 - Cinnamon.
Cinnamon sticks
By Kysra
The smell of cinnamon, a tangy little hint of heaven, was overpowering. It pinched her nose and forced tears from her eyes, inspired saliva production in her throat and induced a sharp hunger in her belly.
The sight, a flailing mess scattered and staggering across all surfaces, was at once touching and inflaming. A fine red powder hugged his left cheek only to spill down into the collar of his shirt, a large handprint marking the blue denim at his thigh. A white cloud of flower hung suspended in the air, settling – grain by tiny grain – upon her once clean floor, and assorted liquids, fruit pieces of the quartered and ground variety had found their merry way to splatter across the light fixture, parts of the ceiling, and cabinets across the room.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, to yell or simply leave; but, he was looking at her with such a forlorn expression, she couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing, Joey?"
He had the presence of mind to look sheepish, "Well, the guys and I thought it would be cool to make a cake for you . . . since it's your birthday and all."
It wasn't that she felt like being unkind, it was that her kitchen looked like every cupboard had vomited, "And you're making this cake in my kitchen because?"
This time he blushed, "We, ah, well . . . ya know, we didn't have all the ingredients."
"Joey, do you guys even know how to make a cake?"
A defensive look was thrown her way even while he waved a gunk-encrusted spoon in her face, "It can't be that hard!"
Defeat was swift in the face of such determination, "Fine. Where are Tristan and Yuugi? I have GOT to clean up this mess. It'll take weeks just to get that cinnamon smell out of the house."
Instead of answering her question, he looked slightly alarmed, "Cinnamon? I thought it was brown sugar!"
She watched as he frantically checked all of the other ingredients and couldn't help but laugh hysterically when he realized he had used vinegar instead of oil, baking powder instead of salt, generally mixing up every ingredient he thought he might need while the others were grocery shopping for frosting ingredients.
And even though her kitchen was a mess, even though no cake would come of this disaster without her own culinary expertise, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry.
After all, it's the thought that counts.