Walk A Mile [FreenBecky]

Chapter 15

"I can't believe you burned the soup," Freen commented blithely as she poked around her bowl with her spoon. They were only able to salvage like 0.2% of it, but hey. It's the thought that counts, right?

"You were distracting me..." Becky mumbled a reply, still significantly embarrassed from how Freen had to swoop in and save the day. Again. Couldn't she do anything right?

"This is hilarious. I didn't even think that burning soup was actually a thing," Freen burst into boisterous laughter again, then irritated her throat. She coughed and tried to clear it up before settling down.

"Karma," Becky said contentedly.

"What?" Freen kinked an eyebrow, now looking at her instead of the scorched soup in her spoon.

"That's what you get for laughing at me," Becky explained and stuck her tongue out.

"It was funny. But don't feel bad, Becbec. I'm sure other people burn soup all the time," Freen shared conveniently, undoubtedly still teasing her.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the first..." Becky sighed and dropped her gaze to the table and away from Freen's amused expression. It was kind of funny, but she really was embarrassed. How does someone manage to do that?

"Hey, at least it didn't catch on fire... Right?" Freen offered some positivity now that Becky was sulking.

"Right," Becky entertained her point. "But still I feel like Spencer from iCarly..." she groaned and buried her face into her hands as her face took on another shade of red.

"You didn't set it on fire," Freen giggled, but didn't overdo it so she wouldn't suffer some more coughing.

"If I left it alone for a few more minutes it probably would have," Becky predicted sorely and crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's okay, babe. You tried. It's the thought that counts," Freen smiled and blew a kiss over to Becky sweetly.

Becky was about to respond, but her endeavors were stalled by her surprise. Her mouth was parted slightly, caught in the midst of beginning her sentence. Freen had just called her babe, and it sounded so natural falling from her lips. Though natural as it may be, it still roused a considerable amount of butterflies within Becky's chest. She was glad she wasn't standing upright, because she just might've fallen over from being weak in the knees. Now she'd forgotten what she even wanted to say. Great.

"Y-yeah," Becky stuttered, then cleared her throat to cover up her nerves. "It's the thought that counts."

"And it's actually not bad... I kinda like this," Freen remarked with a sincere smile to ease Becky's worries. "Which is weird, because I don't even like tomatoes..."

"I get that. I love oranges but I don't like orange juice," Becky shared a peculiarity of her own.

"That's crazy," Freen deadpanned.

"Hypocrite," Becky scoffed playfully. "I like everything strawberry, though."

"Oh, I know you do. I thought it was you. My mom refills the fruit basket every time she goes to the grocery store and every time I want a strawberry, they're always gone now. You raid the fruit basket for strawberries. It's like clockwork," Freen gave her a not at all threatening glare from across the table.

"Sorry," Becky giggled at how she'd been caught. "I love strawberrys..."

"It's okay. I do the same thing with the mangoes," Freen admitted. "I love them, they're my favorite."

"I thought I was your favorite," Becky's bottom lip jutted out childishly, then she abandoned the act and shook her head. She was only joking.

"Oh, you are. My favorite fruit has got nothing on my favorite girl," Freen affirmed smoothly, wearing a smirk that matched her tone. She was being a smooth little shit, and she knew it too.