𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄 -- 𝐀 𝐌𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐂

⸻ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓

⋯

The buttery scent of cookies wafted through Sulli's studio apartment, countering the cool autumnal air in pleasant shades of honey. The apartment itself is just across from campus in an approved housing building, and although it's pretty small, it suits them just fine and relieves them from the stress of potentially having a roommate who's "uncomfortable" with them. Afternoon rays of light beam through the windows, hitting the floor and walls with glittering warmth. They're tempted to open a window for a little bit of that fresh Ireland air, but the warmth would quickly seep from the room, so it's better to not. Tucking the bottle of Irish whiskey safely back into their bag before placing it under the bed, Sulli brushes their hands off on their pants.

They know it's technically not against the rules to have alcohol in their dorm, but it still feels weird to have it sometimes. Sulli doesn't drink very often, and they haven't really drank in a long time, but after a little bit of research, and more than one recommendation from some of the more popular bakeries in the area, they discovered one of the most popular cookies in Ireland had a little whiskey in it.

Which is exactly what led them to making Triple Threat cookies. Granted, they did smell absolutely delicious. No wonder they were popular. They'd decided to make them before Club Lore met, just before, so they were still a little warm when they brought them back to campus.

Is this a stupid idea?

Maybe they would think it'd be childish. Sulli is perfectly aware that some of the club's members voted against letting them join. Otherwise, Adelaide would have delightfully told them that it was unanimous. Sulli didn't ask though – they didn't really want to know to be completely honest. It'd be better to just skip over that part and let it be. Eventually, they could get the others to come around.

Probably.

On the other hand, Sulli thinks it'll be okay if they don't get to go anymore after December, especially if they don't like them. It's optimistic to think that they could potentially convince an entire club of people to let them stay despite all reluctance to let them in in the first place. They'd like to imagine that they could let it go, and smooth waves of mindless guilt curl around their mind. In a way, they already coerced Adelaide into letting them come, but at the same time, all they really wanted to know was why they couldn't go in the first place.

That's fair of me to ask, isn't it?

Of course, now, they could barely ask any questions at all - at least not about why Sulli couldn't join in the first place. As curious as they were, a web of sickeningly heavy guilt had settled in his stomach, the spider spinning that silk crawling up their throat. They did want to join Club Lore, but also wanted real friends, not the kind where Addy might force her friends to be theirs.

Maybe that's why Sulli wanted to make a nice impression, and what better impression was there than to make people food upon the invitation to join? Not only was it a nice thank you, but hopefully it would serve as a half-decent ice-breaker too.

That was arguably one of the worst parts about going to a new space or environment, the initial awkwardness of first interactions. It would be easier with both Madden and Adelaide there, but it didn't make them any less nervous about it. It's not even that Sulli is necessarily awkward in social situations, it's the rising anxiety of knowing what's coming and still having no idea what to say.

There are the soft tones of vibration, signaling their timer is up, and Sulli's thoughts are pulled from the anxiety of attending Club Lore to the anxiety of assuring that these cookies turned out half as good as the recipe promised they would. They'd already burned the ginger cookies earlier this morning or half-burned them, so they had been much more careful with these. One batch had made it out, but the other pan had gone to shit. Of course, they wouldn't be mentioning the burning of the previous batch to the Club, it'd be better to just stick with the simple story of triple-threat cookies and that's all.