What's in a week?

Monday 1st June 2015

My eyelids flutter open to the golden sunlight cascading down through the window, the birds tweeting outside and the warm blanket wrapped tight around my body.

I shove my face into the pillow and scream as loud and violently as I, can.
A week stuck with Toby.
An entire week.
Toby.
TOBY.
"God dammit." I grumble, stretching out my arms and fingers individually. "Knew I'd go to hell one day." Stumbling up into the cold air and over to the wardrobe I threw open the doors and furrowed my brows. "The hell are all my clothes?" My eyes gradually trailed over to my bag. "Oh yeah... There they are. From the holiday I never got to go on." I hissed, throwing on some loose sweatpants and a hoodie and opening my bedroom door to go make breakfast. Upon stumbling down the stairs, I noticed the faint smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. I tiptoed over and pushed the door open a small bit.

A figure stood in front of the cooker, black skinny jeans, a red plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up, black beanie pulled over messy hair and black hightops. He turned around and his brown curly hair fell over his face, over black framed glasses. I snickered, drawing his attention over to me.
"Hey." He mumbled plainly, turning back around to face the hob and flip some pancakes. I walked in and sat at the breakfast bar,
"Morning, shortie." I chuckled. He rolled his eyes, flicking the switch on the kettle and yawning slightly,
"Don't." I chucked again.
"So... Mr Rogers needs glasses huh?" His shoulders tensed.
"...Yes." His neck cracked slightly.
"That's why you always miss the targets in practice? Cause you can't see? Heh, here's me thinkin' you was a bad shot." He sighed and plated up the food, standing on his toes and stretching up to try and reach my usual coffee mug. "Need a hand?" He huffed, hitching a leg up onto the counter and pulling himself up onto the bench.
"I don't need your help, Mr Wright." He mocked my prior tease, jumping down and quickly grabbing a spoon to make my coffee. I stared at him, the way his hands seemed to have a mind of their own... How does he know I have my coffee the way I do? Well, knowing Toby he probably knows so he can prank me or something... He set down my mug and both plates and sat next to me, starting to eat quietly.
"What's the deal with this pancakes thing anyway?" He dropped his fork onto the plate with a loud clatter and stared down at it as if he were willing it to peirce him on the spot. His face crumpled to confused agony.
"My... Mum used to ma-ake them before... Things went... Bad. After that... Whenever I was upset, my... Sister used to... Cheer me up with them... Before she..." I immediately knew I'd done wrong and blurted out my best apology without sounding soft. There's a fraction between both, and I didn't want him to take it the wrong way. "It's fi-ine... Really..." He trailed off, picking up his fork and stabbing at the food, letting it fall off the prongs and stabbing it again. I ate in silence.

"Toooooby?!" I called up the stairs, ruffling my hair and readjusting my hoodie strings so they were perfectly aligned. A curly mop of brown hair greeted me from upstairs.

"What?" He asked bluntly, wiping his eyes. I mentally frowned.

"I'm heading out to the store, was wondering if you'd like to-" No quicker than I attempted to finish my sentence he was by my side at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me with a cheeky grin and sparkling eyes. "...Right..." I cleared my throat. "Let's go."

"Can I get in the cart?" He pleaded.

"No."

"Pleeeaaaaase?!"

"No."

"Please please?!"

"No, Toby!"

He lifted himself and landed in the trolley.
"Oh for.. Toby, you're far too fucking heavy!" He rolled his eyes.
"Course I'm no-ot... Anyway, you have muscles." He pointed out casually, giving my bicep a squeeze that made my face turn pink from embarrassment. "C'mon, Timmy!" He begged,
"Toby! Can you not?" Folding my arms I kept a solid glare on him.
"Aww, don't go in a huff... Timmy." He smirked and I groaned, pushing the trolley into the store. I kept quiet as I recited what we'd need in my head, humming the song that's been stuck in my brain since I'd first heard it. "This is boring..." Toby mumbled, folding his arms, "Do you have to go so slow?!" I rolled my eyes. He immediately perked up. "Can I get some stuff for my pancakes?!" He was excited, twitching out of anticipation, I nodded. "Gosh darn it Timmy! GO FASTER! I WANT MY WHIPPED CREAM!"

My face was the equivalent to a sponge in scarlet red paint as my body stiffened. Did he just... "Don't stop! Why'd you stop?! I want whipped cream!!!"

Toby's P.O.V:

I groaned in annoyance. I hate shopping, but I didn't want to be alone in the mansion... Not that I'm scared, pffft, no... His face is red and he's sweating, a few people are snickering around us... Does he hate attention that much? I don't get him sometimes...

Masky's P.O.V:

We've nearly reached the mansion with all the stuff and he groaned, "Why do I have to carry more bags?!" He exclaimed, dropping them and sitting on a rock. Once again I'm glad I carried the eggs.
"Because you can't feel pain in your arms from carting around ten full bags of shopping through almost a kilometere of trees" He rolled his eyes and jumped up, once again wrapping his hand around my bicep.
"You have muscles though, I don't." He squeezed my arm and gasped, "It's so hard" My face flushed again and I let out an uncomfortable whine before pulling away and almost jogging to the path leading up to the house. He really doesn't hear it, does he?
"Tiiimmmmmyyyy! Waiiiit!" He squealed, trying to gather up all the shopping and make it back over to me, swaying from side to side from the bags. I groaned, closing my eyes and trying to open the door with my elbow, gently placing everything down in the hall. By the time Toby scurried in, I was half way up the stairs, unzipping my black hoodie and opening my bedroom door to change into my loose pants.
"Stay down there! I'll make food in a bit." He cheered.

Toby's P.O.V:

I sat down at the table and stared at the doorway, waiting for him to come in. In he shuffled, picking up a peeler and beginning to skin the potatoes.

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, letting out a moan as it slipped in...
"This food tastes delicious!"

Thanks to jello4life for letting me use some ideas of theirs! ^,^ You should check their books out!