The Bushes of Allium (Garlic Bread x MK)

Chapter 1: Freezer

A/N:

This is dedicated to Evie, whom without this would never have been created.
I have never written fiction before. I have only read two "bad" Wattpad stories, thanks to Evie's (and to some extent, Tori's) constant peer pressuring of me. However, I do read fiction, and love nothing more than a good story - and I have always wanted to tell one. This work is the result of playful yet intense teasing, however this will be a labor of love, as Venus knows I could never let a good creative outlet to go to waste. Don't spread hate, constructive criticism, however, is always appreciated. Enjoy! Or don't.
Love, MK xxx

It was cold. So cold. The garlic bread had not felt this cold for some time. On the shelf, yes, it had been cold. The white light, the incessant beeping, cycle of noise and silent. For nearly a week, the garlic bread had sat upon the shelf, waiting. When it finally did happen, it was not by MK, nor by an associate, but by a member of staff. The garlic bread was placed in a basket with 7 other good loaves. "Was it a recall?" "Had they expired?" - no. They had been purchased, online.

The journey there was long, dark and arduous. The constant bumping, bumbling van which took the loaf across the city, and eventually to MK's. Light! Finally! But respite from the dark would be vanishing, as quickly, another crate was stacked on-top of the loafs, and another. After what felt like endless transport, the garlic bread had arrived. "Thank you!" - a quiet voice cried, and the bread felt itself picked up by warm hands, through the wrappings. The bread was placed upon the table, with the other loaves, and it was here that the garlic bread would first be seen by the gentle smile of its new master. A look of excitement, a brief glimmer of excitement, and was that... thrill? The glint swept across the brown kind eyes looking upon the bread. If there truly was an arousal in those eyes, however, it was short lived, as before long the bread found itself picked up, and stacked with the many other loaves. It was dark. Quiet. Cold. Time became but a mere figment, with the void of nothing interrupted only by occasional loud outbursts of some terrible singing to the 2015 single "White Tiger" and brief moments of precious light and noise, as one of the four dark walls parted periodically, with a glimpse of a human, searching either lower down or else on the shelf. Indeed, it was here the bread would catch snippets of the humans, and learn of their habits. Each searched in lower regions, except for one, who often looked for peas, and every time glanced approvingly, lovingly, at the stack of baguettes - particularly at the loaf in question. It had been twelve times the loaf had spied the human, with their walnut brown hair cascading down, parting to reveal a rounded face, with warm, loving features, when its time would come. Today, she was not, however, happy. There was red sore stains across her upper-lip. The petite nose that often bore the burden of blue glasses today was an outlet for a never-ending stream of fluid. There was a puffing across their otherwise sweet-yet-knowing eyes. Their long hair, always somewhat ruggedly unruly, was today strewn, with strands a law unto themselves, follicles tangled, ends split. The warm hands were back, and the bread was taken from its icy cage.

MK placed the bread down, and gave a sad smile. Through the frosted-encrusted wrapping, the bread could see as their features begin to very slightly ease closer to their normal state. As time passed, the bread reveled in the light, the noise, and finally, touch. The wrapping was undone, and the bread was free! Mostly thawed, the bread felt warm, soft hands clasp it and gently remove it from its wrappings.