Try For Me | Zelink AU

Sour Like a Lemon

A stupid grin was plastered to my face the entire walk back to Impa's as I spilled everything that happened in those few minutes I was with Link. He'd kissed my cheek. If that doesn't tell me he likes me, I don't know what will.

I'd told Impa about the bruises, something she didn't seem all that concerned about. She pointed out that Revali has gotten into plenty of fights since we've known him, most of them ending in split knuckles and black eyes but never a bruised ego. For him at least. If anything, they make his ego soar after winning.

Her mother offered for me to stay for dinner and as much as I'd love to, Father should be coming home by tonight and I need to make our dinner. And if Link happens to call, I want to be there to answer it.

The sky is painted bright orange and pink, matching my mood. Kids are still playing in the street, enjoying the last few minutes of the weekend before they go back to school tomorrow. By now, they're all itching for summer break and I never thought I'd be one of them. I didn't mind when school would end or when it would start up again in the fall. Now that I'm a senior, it feels different. Once it's over this time, it's over forever. I'd brought up college to Father but he wasn't fond of the idea since not many women attend. So it'll be the library and car wash for me until maybe I save enough to send myself to college.

A light breeze cuts through the stagnant air, blowing my hair across my face. I push it behind my ear and let my fingers brush where Link kissed my cheek. I smile thinking about it. He'd kissed close to my freckles and I wonder if he did that on purpose. It was light and quick and yet I can still feel it each time I replay it in my head. I let the memory turn into daydreams where I switch out tiny details like where he'd kissed.

It feels like I've only been walking for a few minutes by the time I get to my street. The sun is even lower now with the sky turning purple above me. I was lost in my head, relying on my legs to remember the way home.

My thoughts of soft kisses from a rough boy are interrupted when I see Father's car in the driveway. He's home early and he hates when I'm not home before him. I haven't even had the chance to start dinner.

I hurry the rest of the short distance and let myself inside where Father is waiting for me in the living room. He's sitting in one of the arm chairs, his leg crossed over the other and his eyes narrowed.

"It's a school night," he says.

"I know—"

"So where were you?"

"Impa's," I say in a voice so low it's almost a whisper. His eyes narrow further, squeezing the rest of the answer from me. "I helped her set up the car wash and we went to the diner for ice cream." I chew on my lip as if to hide the details I'm leaving out.

"I see." He picks up the newspaper sitting on the end table, his eyes still on me as he opens it to an article in the middle. "I'll enforce a curfew if I have to, Zelda. Don't make me set one." I want to argue and say he's already set an invisible one.

But I also know better.

I offer him a silent nod and head to the kitchen to wash up. I tie Mother's apron around my waist and get to work seasoning chicken thighs and peeling carrots for roasting. Another boring and bland dinner that's nothing like what Mother used to make. I remember her food being full of flavor, not that I appreciated it as much as I should have back then. I was too young to think that there'd be a day I wouldn't get to eat it again.

I put the chicken and carrots into the oven and wash my hands, drying them on the apron. She'd made it herself out of blue patterned fabric and trimmed the edges in lace. My sewing skills are limited to potholders. Maybe an oven mitt if I'm determined.