It's been less than a day and he already misses her. It's been less than half a day technically. And even though he was too dead to the world when she left in the morning to consciously feel her absence then, Jack decides it's only fair to count those hours as well. Anyhow. It's been less than twenty-four hours and he misses her like a soldier on a suicidal mission missing their sweetheart back in the homeland. Or maybe just like any other besotted dork out there. Goddammit, that woman is going to be the death of him.
His attention goes back to the bowl in front of him.
Despite him not having the palate of a six-year-old on their birthday, he's in the kitchen making cupcakes. He doesn't even like cupcakes. Why eat tiny cakes when you can stuff your face with a seven-layered monstrosity instead? And yet, he kept thinking about the dessert all day and he just has to eat at least one cupcake or he'll lose his fucking mind.
He's making chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream because whatever fancy perfume Elsa usually wears around the house smells like sugar and vanilla, and the more time he spends with her, the hungrier he gets. In more senses than one. Her scent is everywhere—on the cold pillow when he wakes up alone in the morning, on the couch where they curl up and fall asleep together watching The Bachelorette late at night, in the kitchen where he slaves away making stupid little cakes with buttercream and sprinkles because he misses her.
It's a lot harder than he anticipated. He's out of practice. The recipe makes twelve cakes, but he messes up the frosting swirl with the piping bag and eats two cupcakes right away to hide his screw-ups. The rest, he puts under the cake dome for later.
Cheeky little bastard that he is, he can't help leaving a note to accompany the baked treats as well.
consider this your cheat day. You're welcome
P.S. if you eat all of them by yourself, I am switching your coffee to decaf when you least expect and you will be none the wiser ️
By the time he's done with the dirty dishes, it's already time to go to work. He grabs his backpack and keys and gets ready to leave for another eight-plus excruciating hours sans that goddamn woman ahead. God, what a joke he is.
And Jack realizes it is true what they say about misery, that it loves company. He'd never wish for anything really bad to happen to Elsa but fuck if he doesn't hope his absence is making her as miserable as he is right now…
Yep. Final batch is gonna be a sickeningly sweet fluffy one.