"So, tell me," asks Maleficent, "these cinnamon oat squares consist of what exactly?"

Evie slightly nods as she looks up in thought, "Cinnamon, oats, sugar, and milk or water depending on what's available."

"That's it?" She seems shocked.

"Well, it depends," comments Evie. "It's not like we're in Auridon, so we need to use what we have. I've done this same recipe with pancake mix and garlic powder. Our survival all depends on how well we can improvise."

"Or on how well we can scrounge up scraps," the evil fairy complains. "I used to be able to eat an entire knight whole, but now I'm so starved I can't even summon up my dragon form."

"Ah. That's right," Evie empathizes. "You're a meat eater. The rations they send here must be so hard on you. I know whenever I walk past that stall it always seems to be empty."

"That's because she takes everything from there," Mal interrupts when she walks through the kitchen door. "Seriously, Mother. We do have some money. Do you have to hypnotize him every time he gets a shipment? He has a family too, you know."

"Oh, Mal," Maleficent pities, "where's your sense of survival?"

Evie notices Mal's eyes widen in annoyance as she sits on the stool behind the island counters, "I suspect it went with all that hot water you stole from me. Again!"

Her mother waves the response away, "Don't be so dramatic, darling."

"I'm not being dramatic." Evie watches as Mal crosses her arms. "I'm just cold."

"Then wear a jacket," Maleficent reasons.

Evie looks at the loose, purple tank top Mal wears, but she still finds her mother's words to be ridiculous. Apparently so does Mal, as she laughs, "Yeah. Because that helps."

"You don't have to believe me," Maleficent calmly responds, "but one day you will realize that whatever heat you do manage to get can be retained longer with one."

Mal scoffs, "Then why don't you wear a jacket?"

"Oh. It's just not fashionably sensible, darling." Mal's mouth drops, and Evie doesn't blame her, as one of her favorite outfits actually contains a jacket. "As far as being cold goes, just be grateful you're young. You would not believe how hard it is to get warm once you reach my age. It's just— well, let's just say it can be a nightmare."

Evie watches Mal about to open her mouth again, so she interrupts, "Mal. It should be done by now. Would you like to take it out?"

Mal lets out the breath she was about to use to continue the conversation, and she seems to forget about it completely as she smiles and walks over to the oven, "No need to ask, Evie. I know we don't have any mittens for you to use." When she pulls it out her eyes narrow in question, "What would you have done if my bath took longer than expected?"

Evie smiles, "Mal, it already took longer than expected."

"Oh." Mal smiles as well when she sets the pan on the counter, but she doesn't let go of it. "This is so good."

Her mother stares at the food inside the pan, "I don't see how you can survive off of that bird food. I'd be absolutely starved."

Mal slightly rolls her eyes, "It's not supposed to fulfill hunger, Mother. I eat it to keep my weight up." She looks over her mother bitterly, "Maybe you should try it some time." before she looks back at the food. "Besides, when Evie makes things it tastes good, and I trust that."

"Whatever you say, dearie." Maleficent begins to strut away, "I'm going out. You girls have fun. I expect you in bed by midnight."

"But Mother," Mal calls.

After the lack of response Evie raises an eyebrow, "I thought you normally stay up until three."

"She doesn't like it when I'm mean to her," Mal mutters, but then she smiles again. "You can cut it now. I'll grab the syrup."

Evie finds a knife in the drawer, before she begins cutting the oats into perfect squares. "Damn it."

"What?" Mal turns around. "You didn't cut yourself, did you?"

Evie grunts a laugh, "No. It's just… I messed up."

Mal comes over and looks at the squares, "I don't see any issues."

"No. See. That line, there," Evie points. "It's all crooked." She places both hands to her face to hide the tears that burn in her eyes. "My mom—"

"Your mom isn't here," Mal stresses. "And no one's going to say anything. It's fine."

"Doesn't matter," Evie insists. "If I mess up here, then I can mess up anywhere, and if that happens—"

"E!" Mal grabs hold of Evie's shoulder. "Calm down."

"I'm such a failure," Evie cries.

"You're not a failure," Mal stresses as she brings her hand up to her cheek in attempt to wipe the tears away; however, even more fall.

"But I am. I am. I'm a—" She had shut her eyes when her sight became too blurry from crying, but then suddenly she could feel something stop her words. It's soft, it's cold, it's— Mal. But no. It can't be. She won't let herself believe it, and yet she wishes it were true; however, she dares not open her eyes, because she fears it may only be in her mind. It could just be in her head, but then when she feels the lips release she knows it's her last chance to know.

When she opens her eyes Mal comments, "You're not a failure. You're a princess, and princesses don't cry." She smiles sweetly as she wipes away the remnants of the tears, "I hate to see you cry."

Evie opens her mouth before speaking. This just had to be a dream. "You kissed me."

"Yeah. Sorry." Mal lets go of her, "I know I'm not supposed to, but I had to get you to stop. After everything else, I just didn't know what to do."

"Oh." Evie holds onto her arm. I should have known it was too good to be true.

Mal goes over to a cupboard to take out a couple plates and bowls, "But anyway, it's time for dinner."

"Oh! Um," Evie speaks up but then grows quiet.

"What is it E?" Mal questions as she brings the dishes to the counter.

"I'm not really hungry," Evie excuses. "I just made it for you."

Mal laughs, "Come on. You can't be telling me you cooked something with no intention of eating any of it."

"Why not?" Evie mumbles. "I do it all the time."

Mal's smile falters in confusion, "A chef not sampling their own cooking is like a fashion designer not wearing their own clothes. It just doesn't happen." When Evie stares down Mal takes a step closer, "How would something like that even happen?"

"I like to cook," Evie states. "No. I love to cook." She lifts her head up and smiles, but it doesn't take long for it to falter.

Mal sees her friend's eyes have glossed over into blank thoughts, so she takes a step closer, "But?"

Evie looks at her and slightly laughs, "But princesses are beautiful, and if you're not skinny, then you're not beautiful." She gulps, feeling the tears burning her eyes again, and when she speaks she hears her voice squeak into a higher pitch, "I can cook, I can look; however, I cannot touch, I cannot taste."

Mal shuts her eyes for a moment as she shakes her head, "Evie. No. Just no. That's absurd." Evie attempts to laugh, because no matter how absurd it had sounded to her friend, it doesn't make it any less true; however, instead of a laugh she heaves into uncontrollable tears. "Evie. Look at me." She feels Mal's hand back on her arm, but even though her breaths slow in calmness she's unable to look at her friend— her crush. Because she would do anything for her, and yet she could not fulfil her simple desire to not see her cry. "E! Look at me." She complies, but she's a mess and she knows it. She knows no one would want a mess like her. "You're already skinny, and even if you weren't—" Mal sadly smiles, "You're already so beautiful."

Evie wants to believe it, but as she knows she would do anything for Mal, she also knows that Mal would do almost anything for her. So, she's lying. She has to be. She just wants to make her feel better, because Evie knows her words aren't true. She owns a scale, a tape measure, and her mother makes her take measurements often. And those last measurements. Evie huffs a laugh, "Skinny. Right." She stares distrustingly into Mal's eyes, "Then why did I gain two pounds?" There. She said it. I was hoping to keep it a secret, but what am I kidding? She probably saw the difference the second she saw me. That's why she kissed me. It was out of pity. She felt sorry for me. She knew I would never meet my mom's expectation to marry a prince, and she knew no one else would have me either. That's why—

"E," Mal's jaw drops open in shock. "Two pounds? Really? That's just water."

Evie huffs again and lowers her eyes in thought, "My mom doesn't seem to think so." She looks back up and stares blankly at her friend, "I'm not allowed to eat until I get it off."

"Your mother again, Evie?" Mal is clearly annoyed, but Evie has no energy to defend what she knows to be true: her mom is right about this. She is fat, and it just seems to get harder and harder to keep it off no matter how hard she tries. "Your mom isn't here. You don't have to worry about her. You don't have to do what she says."

"She'll know," Evie slowly lets out in a loud manner. At last Mal is quiet, and Evie begins to think it's over; however, Mal speaks again, albeit this time softer and more considerate.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?"

Evie feels the corners of her mouth lift, because for some reason she finds the fact she's about to speak to be kind of funny, even though it isn't. "Only a couple days."

"Only?" Mal responds in shock.

Evie looks away from Mal, not wanting to think too much about it, before her eyes lie upon the distraction, "It's going to get cold. You should have some while it's still warm."

Mal looks over at the cinnamon oat squares, "Right."

Evie sits on a stool opposite of Mal, and she watches as Mal piles the squares high onto the plate. I guess eating so much doesn't bother someone who can't really get full. She begins to feel a little envious of her crush, just of how the fat in her body seemed to always distribute the exact right amounts to the exact right places. If only my body could do that. She watches as Mal fills a bowl with maple syrup, and suddenly the smells of everything hits her. Her stomach rumbles, and she takes a deep breath as the dizzying sensation takes hold.

Mal looks guiltily between her food and her friend, before she questions, "Are you sure you can't have any?"

Evie slowly nods, "Just continue. Food may fulfil my hunger, but it never truly satisfies me." She looks back down at the food, "I will enjoy watching you eat more than if I were to eat it myself." She smiles. "Don't forget to tell me how it is. My cooking can always get better."

Mal nods, "Don't worry. I will." but after a few bites she stops. "I just need to make sure you know… I don't see you as weak. The crying you did—" Mal looks away for a moment, "After not eating for this long, you must be absolutely exhausted." Evie opens her mouth to speak, but Mal puts her hand up. "Even if you're used to it, it must really take a toll on your body and your mind." She nervously rubs her hands together, and even when they stop all she can do is stare down at them, "Personally, I know that when I'm worn out I can't think." Mal looks back up, "And sometimes when I'm exhausted, which is pretty much all the time, I can get a little emotional too. It's normal, and I need you to know that I understand. You're not weak. Okay?"

Evie looks down, not wanting to see Mal's face if what she fears actually turns out to be true, "If you don't see me as weak, does that also mean you don't take pity on me? I mean, you didn't just kiss me because I'm fat and you knew I wouldn't find anyone else, did you?" Whatever time passes, it feels like an eternity to Evie. It's true, isn't it? She's not responding, because she doesn't want to admit that it's true. She looks up, waiting for it to be said, but instead all she sees is Mal crying.

"God, E. You're not fat. How can you not see that?" Evie looks down. "You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." Mal laughs, "More beautiful than I could ever aspire to, not that I want to feel three pounds of makeup on my face every second of every day." Evie laughs, and then she feels a hand reach for hers. When she looks up Mal stares down in serious contemplation, "I kissed you, because I care about you." She squints questioningly as she looks back up at her, and her teeth are shown in unsureness, "Can you understand that?"

Evie smiles, "Yeah. I can."

"Good." Mal lets go of her hand, and Evie watches as she continues to eat.

- Can someone remind me if terms of endearment are capitalized or not? You know, words like "honey" or "darling"... I feel like I've had to look it up a dozen times, and yet I still can't remember. I only question it now, because I thought I was writing them without capitalization but then when I went to edit this chapter they were capitalized. There's nothing better to confuse you like your own writing, huh?