library hearts

25 | flour fight

Stop it. You have to keep it secret, Aspen. This is going to reveal you, sooner or later.

I shake my head at the bag of sugar before me.

"Okay, what do we need?"

London starts rambling ingredients, and I nod as I place them in a straight line on the wooden counter. All packed up and ready, I find us some aprons. I toss one of them over to her; and when she unfolds it, I realize it's Atlas old apron.

Apparently, we haven't checked the kitchen drawers.

I want to cry and laugh at the same time.

"What the fuck is this!?" exclaims London, glaring down at her apron.

It's black, with large, white and slightly wobbly letters saying THE LAST TIME I COOKED, and underneath that, small, thin letters form hardly anyone got sick.

"Don't you like it?" I let out a snicker.

"This is literally the best apron I've ever seen" says London, still staring at the text. "Wow. I'll have to steal it."

I snort. But I don't say anything.

"Hey, can you help me tie this?"

I drop my gaze to the two thin laces she's holding up before her back. She's already put the apron on. "Now, not in two years!" she adds teasingly and puts the laces in my hands.

My fingers sweaty, I tie the strings into a steady knot, tips heating with a strange sensation every time I touch her lower spine. When I'm done, I linger with my fingers on her lumbar back a couple of seconds too long, because I just can't resist it. When London turns her face at me, my hand scuttles of her back and I feel my heart starting to beat faster.

She smiles.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

We begin. I turn on the stove and slide a saucepan over the plate, cut butter into slices and pour it into it. It melts slowly and takes on a golden brown color.

"What'd happen if I ate this?" I say jokingly.

London's voice from across the kitchen sounds: "Your mouth would burn and you wouldn't ever be able to speak again. Don't."

"That wouldn't be too much of a loss."

The words are meant to come out as a joke, but when I utter them, I feel their weight on my tongue and instantly regret them. I don't want to make London pity me.

"I would be sad, Asp" she says, and it's almost so quiet that I can't hear it. "I would be really sad if you stopped talking."

I don't reply, feeling my mouth dry out once again. Trying to wet it, I try to convince myself that it doesn't mean anything. I've already got several points proving that she isn't in love with me.

This, all of this, doesn't mean anything but friendship to her.

"Heeey" her voice sounds, dragging out the e, suddenly close behind me. A pair of arms comes from above and tie together in front of my stomach, causing the butterflies in my belly to flutter dramatically.

"Hello."

"I can't crack the eggs, Asp. Can't you help me?"

"One second" I say, trying my best to make my voice sound steady.

I glance down in the butter, and yes, it's melted, so I put the heat down to zero and a half and turn to London, her arms falling down around my waist. Her eyes flicker and won't stay still, and for a couple of seconds, they rest at my lips, and I can't breathe, but then, she lets go of her hands and turn around, a gentle grin appearing on her lips.