Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The rest is my doing. Please do not repost the story without authorization.
Word Prompt: Schedule
Dialogue Flex: "What is that noise?" she asked.
Using the provided snippet of dialogue, explore what comes to mind, be it as scene, a thought, or something else.
Not beta'd.
That night, I make scones for Masen. They won't taste like his grandmother's, but they'll equalize the debt of the latte he bought me.
Despite my justifications that 'friends bake for friends,' and 'taking care of people is innate for me,' I take an obscene amount of pleasure in doing something for him.
I cut and lay out the dough on a cookie sheet, then put the whole thing in the fridge to chill overnight.
As I finish cleaning the kitchen, I think of the nameless blonde girl on his iPhone, and wonder if she cooks for him, too. Tomorrow, come hell or high water, I have to ask.
xxx
I bake the scones while I get ready the next morning, and pack them up while they're still warm. I'm so excited to bring them to Masen that I almost forget to lock my front door.
As soon as he pulls up, I slip into the car and pass the basket to him.
"What's this?"
"A surprise."
He pulls the treat to his nose and inhales deeply before peeling the towel back to look inside. His eyes widen instantly.
"Scones?" The surprise in his voice is so genuine. It makes me think it's been a long time since someone's done something nice for him.
"To pay you back for the coffee."
"Aw, Bella, you didn't have to do that. It was a gift."
"Try one. They're still warm."
Seeing him dig in is every bit as satisfying as I imagined it would be. When he raves about them, I'm on cloud nine.
"My grandmother would kill me if she heard me say this, but these are every bit as good as hers, maybe better."
"I tweaked the recipe just for you. I had to use what I had in the house." It's not exactly true. I used ingredients that reminded me of him—dried cranberries for his sour side, and white chocolate chips for his sweet side—so the finished product was a dedication of sorts.
"I'm honoured," he says, shoving the last of the triangle into his mouth. He chews for a moment, and adds, "Holy fuck, these are good!"
The face he makes as he chews is priceless. I feel a little obscene watching him, imagining the things I could do to his body that would bring about a similar face
He helps himself to another and, with it sticking out of his mouth, he grins while he pulls into traffic.
"So what did you do last night?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
"I crashed, actually; really early, like ten o'clock or so. I couldn't keep my eyes opened."
"No hot date? No sexting marathon?"
He snorts. "I think I'd remember that."
"What do you do with your free time then?" I look down at my lap and nervously pick at the lint on my jeans, well-aware that I'm dangerously close to prying.
"I study and sleep. That pretty much covers the whole twenty-four hours, aside from school."
"Every day?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Well, I stay in because I'm new to town, and carless. But you're from around here. You have… ties to the community, and you have a vehicle to get you to where you need to go. You must have a few friends, even if they're from years ago and you don't see them all that often."
"I don't have time for a social life. I can count the important people in my life on one hand, maybe two, and even them I don't see with any regularity. My schedule just doesn't allow for it."
I waver at the last second, stuck between pushing him too far and not really wanting confirmation that his heart belongs to someone else.
"Don't you ever want someone to take care of you, someone to watch over?"
A/N: Thanks everyone for reading.
You can follow me on Twitter: (at sign)picklewinkle
Leave a review. I'd love to hear what you think.
