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║silver princess and ocean goddess ━━━ (CHAPTER FOURTEEN)
THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE HUNGRY. Humans could morph into ravenous creatures desperate for absolutely nothing in the world but food and in the Blue Rose kitchen, three of those creatures were present.
Stomachs grumbling echoed off the walls and the young woman with a copper-dusted complexion sunk her right cheek into the marble surface of the counter. "Galgaria... when is she coming with the desserts?"
"Hopefully soon." Wainsley's voice was muffled as she cupped her mouth and propped her elbow on the tabletop, ten ten blinking at her from the clock on the wall. Eventually growing bored of holding a staring contest with the device, her attention drifted to the girl sharpening her knife. "Nemy... what are you doing?"
"You don't plan to skin us, right?"
Anemone laughed at Sol's stone reaction and shook her head. "Don't assume something so absurd, Sol! I'm just killing time. Instead of—"
CLUNK!
"EEK!!" screamed Sol like a child, all the hair on her body standing upright from sheer fright at the sudden sound. She subconsciously found herself sticking a 'scaredy cat' pose and barely managed to even her breathing. "WHAT WAS THAT?!"
"Oh, I thought there was a fly." Anemone said nonchalantly as she plucked the knife off the wall, a disappointed look claiming her face for 'seeing things'.
"Just a reminder," Wainsley arched an eyebrow, "that's a kitchen knife and I'd appreciate it if you don't use it to stab flies."
Anemone temporarily ignored her statement and heard buzzing near her pinna. Quickly drawing her head back, the knight caught something charcoal fluttering in the air and clapped it in the blink of an eye. Opening her palms, there laid a squashed fly with the tiniest splatter of carmine staining her skin. "Oh, got it!"
"Wash your hands!" Sol shrieked, mildly disgusted at the idea of a dead fly laying in one's palm. "And use soap!"
"I'd be crazy to not use soap." Anemone gave her a weird look and proceeded to wash her hands in the sink properly.
After she did, Sol cried out, "I'm hungry!!"
"It's like I'm in the presence of a starving baby." Wainsley deadpanned, the cries of Sol's I'm hungry!! repeating in her head like a broken record player from the number of times she had declared so.
"But I really am!" She pouted. "Can't you quickly whip up something, Wainsley?"
"No way. We're out of snacks and my cooking tastes horrid." She responded with a revolting shiver at the thought of cooking again. "Why can't you cook?"
"Because then I'll accidentally burn down the base and Captain will be livid and then I'll get reprimanded and then I'll get the disapproving death stare from her and then I'll be begging for an apology on my knees and then—"
