GLITCH - D.D

°• chapter ten •°

"Okay let's start," I said, looking at my laptop's screen.

I was video calling Amara, the both of us had decided a few days prior that we would bake a pie together.

The air was colder, October had come, we had just announced when Vent'anni was coming out. Ethan, Vic, and Thomas had decided to go out, but since my night was already planned, I was in the kitchen, ingredients in front of me.

"Wait, I still need to get the measuring cups," the white-haired girl said through her laptop.

"Okay, I'll wait," I slumped on the counter.

"Don't sit on the counter, your ass doesn't belong with the food," she yelled through noises of plastic clattering.

"Of course it does, it's a whole meal, I literally have 'kiss this' tattooed on it."

"No way!" She peeked her head on the screen, still searching for the measuring cups.

"You didn't know?" I laughed at her.

"No, oh my god show me, if that's okay though!"

"Yeah wait," I said as I got down from the counter, turning away from her and taking down a small part of my pants.

"That's so cool, holy shit!" She exclaimed, I laughed and asked her, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Yes, a couple but they're not as cool as that one."

"Show me, it that's okay," I joked, quoting her.

"Yeah wait," she pushed up the sleeve of her large sweatshirt, revealing a lineart of a rose, then she turned around and lifted her shirt entirely, revealing her back.

Two skeletons were dancing the waltz right through her spine.

She returned her sweatshirt on, "I have a sword here," she stuck up her middle finger, the tattoo being on the side of it, "And a quote here," she lifted her other sleeve.

Perché anche gli angeli, a volte, han paura della morte.

(Because even the angels, at times, are afraid of death.)

My lips uncontrollably turned into a smile, "I think I like that one the most."

"Me too, also, I found the cups," She held a rainbow of measuring cups in her hand.

"Is everything you own colorful?"

Seriously looking at me, she said, "Yes."

"Well," I took the notebook from the counter, opening it and resting my elbows on each side of it, reading the ingredients, "I asked my mum for an ingredients list and how to make it, we need a kilo of apples, 2 cups of sugar, lemon juice, butter, flour, salt, cinnamon, and an egg."

Every time I said an ingredient she would point to it and say, "Got it."

"You're cute," she smiled as I was reading the ingredients list.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"You're cute, and either have a bad internet connection or bad hearing," Amara blurted.

"Thank you, you're cute too," I added.

"Thank you too," She smiled back, and either the internet is bad or she winked.

We started making the dough, while we were talking she exclaimed, "Also, my cooking experience is limited to making pasta, and I mean the bad kind, like, just boiled with store-bought sauce."

"Oh God you poor French, when you come here you'll taste good pasta."

"Deal," she exclaimed, putting her pie crust in the oven.

A couple of seconds later I had finished my pie, putting it in the oven too.

"When you come to Italy," I started, "You will stay at the Måneskin house, Anne and Sam will come too, the seven of us can have a pool day, Anne will play the violin, maybe host a party, analyze Pride and Prejudice, I just finished it, I'm in love," when she interrupted me.

"We can write a song together?" A hopeful stare filling her eyes.

"Yes, your poetry is beautiful, we can write a slower song, that way Anne can add some tunes with the violin."

She laughed a little, "Sam will have nothing to do though," and I remembered, "Doesn't he take most of the pictures of your embroidery?"

"Oh yeah, he can be our cameraman during the process, at the end, we can make a scrapbook!" She exclaimed.

"It's a deal then!"

We finished up the pies which came out more miserable than expected, and we parted for tonight.