Better with Cheese
It would be easy to get into the class she said, it was a sure thing she said, everything would be alright she said.
But here Belle was, Monday morning, staring at her schedule seeing the big fat 'Waitlist' for her Medieval Literature class staring her in the face. She was number 13 on the list, and she had until Friday to be enrolled in it or sign up for another class.
She didn't think there would be so many people wanting to take this class.
You are in Boston. Belle reminded herself. She really should have signed up for it way earlier than she did.
Belle didn't want another class. The class she had chosen was the perfect class for her schedule, right in between her Latin language and her pre-calculous class. All the other classes on her list didn't fit quite right and she'd have to reorganize her entire schedule to get it to work.
Worse, if she didn't take Medieval Literature, how was she going to take Renaissance Literature or Study of Religion without the proper backbone of the topic? It would be ridiculous.
That was how Killian found her that next morning; she'd gotten up at dawn to check her status, finding she had not moved a single spot through the night, and that got her nervous and when Belle got nervous, she paced. A lot.
"Bloody Hell lass, it's 7 bloody thirty in the morning." He groaned, stumbling out of his room in sweats and a faded band T-shirt. Belle was currently in one of her skirts with a blouse, she had to look good after all if she was going to talk her way into her class. He moved to the kitchen, starting some water boiling. "Why are you pacing like that lass?" He asked.
She hesitated. He didn't want to hear about her problems, it drove Ruby insane when she kept venting about her classes. Ruby wasn't too invested in school after all; she was more focused on the boys in her class than the actual learning.
"Come on lass, spit it out." He pressed with a smirk. "Perhaps I can help?" He offered.
"I'm on a wait list and its stressing me out." She admitted. "I know it's silly but-" She started, playing with the hem of her skirt. He would probably tell her not to worry, that everything will be fine, that's what Gaston always tells her after all, that she should stop worrying over every little thing.
"Silly? It's your education Belle. You need to get this sorted out asap." He insisted. "When does guidance open do you know? The engineering one opens at 9." He explained.
"Communications, the college that covers English, opens at 9 too." She explained.
"Alright, then, how about I make us some breakfast so you can calm down and stop your pacing in those noisy shoes." He said gesturing at her flats.
"Noisy?" She repeated with her eyes narrowed. He grins teasingly.
"Aye love, I can hear you walk from my bedroom." He reminded her, moving to the kitchen. "Clip clip clip." He says, as she follows, to the beat of her gait. Belle rolls her eyes stomps her foot lightly (earning a 'Clop' from Killian), crossing her arms. "How do you like your eggs?" He asked.
"Killian, you really don't need to cook me breakfast, I can-" She tries. Belle is a big girl and is long past the age of needing someone else to cook for her, but her roommate shakes his head.
"Tell me love, how long have you been awake?"
"Since 7." She replies. "What does that have to do with my cooking abilities?" She asks accusingly.
(Maybe she is hungry)
He raises his hand in mock defense.
"I only mean that obviously you have not bothered to eat, rather you are pacing in the hallway wearing a hole in the tile." He points out.
"I'm worried." She defends. "Plus I hate cooking a lot in the morning, I'll just grab a piece of toast or a pop-" His glare silences her.
"A poptart is not food." He assures her. "I'm making eggs for both of us." He emphasized. "I always make too much anyway."
She tried to argue when he smirked.
"It's eggs or boiled mackerel, your choice." He replied.
Belle drops into the chair with a defeated sigh.
"But I'm doing the dishes." She assures him.
"Deal."
It turns out that when Killian Jones cooks, he does not mess around. The joking nonchalant attitude vanishes. He's scowling in concentration at the eggs he's cooking. Belle could already tell he was a perfectionist by how neat his room looked-she had sneaked an innocent peak yesterday—and that attitude obviously spread to his every action, especially cooking.
"Do you like cheese in your eggs?" He asks.
"Anyone who does not like cheese in their eggs should not be trusted." She said firmly.
He smirks, grabbing a handful of shredded cheese and sprinkles it evenly throughout the pan.
(Belle just drops it in and tries to stir it well enough)
Within a few more minutes, they both have plates with cheesy fluffy, delicious eggs piled high. Killian wasn't kidding when he said he always made too much.
"Oh my god." She sighs. "I think these are the best eggs ever." She admits. "Just don't tell Ruby."
"Ruby?" He asks.
"Her Granny, runs a dinner. Has the second best eggs ever." She explains.
He grins proudly.
"Feel better now?" He asks, taking a scoop from his own plate.
"A bit." She replies, but the truth was that the overwhelming panic he was feeling earlier had nearly faded completely. She'd drive to campus after breakfast; calmly speak to her councilor and even the professor of the class if she had to.
"And you have a plan?" He asks. Belle nods.
"Good." He replies. "I have to go get ready for class, will you be alright?"
She nods firmly. "Thank you for breakfast Killian." She says softly.
"Of course, we're roommates we have to take care of each other after all." He says with a wink.
Belle rolls her eyes as he disappears into his own room, and then into the bathroom. She heard the water turn on for a shower.
She smiles warmly in that direction, appreciating Killian's kindness. It was odd, she'd done that plenty of times for Ruby last year, made her breakfast when she came home hung over, but it was nice for someone to do that for her.
It was odd that he even realized that she wanted that, she hadn't even realized it herself.
Belle looks down at her phone, it was nearly 8. She had about half an hour before she should leave to head to guidance. Just enough time to finish the dishes. She turned on the water, fiddling with the nob so the water wouldn't be too hot, but warm enough to help clean off the eggs.
Suddenly her phone buzzed loudly in her purse. She went over to check on it.
Gaston calling…
Belle couldn't help but smile when she picked it up.
"Hey Gaston!" She said happily. "Good morning, how was your trip home?" She asked.
There was static on the line.
"Belle, where are you?" A voice said, a voice Belle recognized as Gaston. "You said you'd drive us to class." He reminded her.
Belle blinked. She didn't remember saying that at all.
"When did I say that?" She asked.
"Last week, remember?" He said sounding annoyed. "I have a class in a half hour, so where are you?" Her grin fell. "Don't tell me you forgot again." He said. Belle can just imagine the look on his face, the same look he always got when he was stressed. Nothing stressed Gaston out more than when Belle forgot something.
"Always had her head in the clouds, my Belle" According to her father.
She turned off the water, looking down at the dirty dish, grimacing at the thought of leaving it here. She felt terrible, Killian had gone out of his way to cook for her and she really wanted to clean up for him, she didn't want to make Killian think that she was a scatter brain and had forgotten.
"Belle you know how important this class is to me. I need to make a good impression." Gaston said in exasperation.
"Sorry. I'm on my way." She said quickly, hanging up her phone. She leaned forward, covering her face with her hands as she re-evaluated her time. It took twenty minutes to get to where Gaston was staying, and then the drive was fifteen minutes to the buildings with all the labs, Gaston was a Biomed major so all his classes were super important.
If she left now, since it was 8:15, that would mean she'd be leaving the area at around 9, unfortunately, it was a forty minute drive from there, to the administrative building, and she had a class at 10:30, it would be cutting it pretty close, so she'd most likely have to go after class, near 12, by then it would be packed.
Killian stepped out, dressed with wet hair plastered to his face. He was checking his phone briefly before looked up at her.
"Everything alright lass?" He asked.
She nodded. "Just trying to manage my time." She admitted. "I have to go"
He smiled. "Good luck lass."
Note: I am not an English major, therefore I have no idea what classes are prereq for what. Totally made up. I wrote/planned this when I was stressed about my own wait list class.
I'm kinda nervous about this chapter, not my favorite, but necessary.
Thank you for your reviews, I really appreciate all the support!
~Luna
