One Shots 'The nursery nurse'

Im so hungry i could eat.....

It was one of those mornings when the scent of freshly brewed coffee carried more energy than the people it was meant to revive. Rain tapped lightly on the office windows, the sky a dull, uninterested gray, as if even the weather couldn’t muster the motivation to show up properly. And yet, work was already underway at the Knight Nursery office.

Well… more or less. Mia sat at her desk, quietly chatting with Charlotte, while Siobhan was glued to her phone, scrolling rather than working. Just a typical morning.

The office was beginning to stir when Marjorie burst through the door like a gust of wind that hadn’t checked the forecast. With her phone and a coffee in hand, and an uncontainable grin on her face, she looked like she was running on something far more potent than caffeine.

“Good morning, my loves! You are not ready for this,” she declared, tossing her bag onto her desk with theatrical flair. “I’ve got the next viral thing.”

Charlotte sighed immediately and turned toward her manager. “If it’s another TikTok dance, I swear to God, Marjorie…”

Marjorie laughed, unfazed. “Nope. Not a dance. This one’s better. It’s called the ‘I’m So Hungry I Could Eat…’ trend.”

Charlotte groaned, rubbing her temples. “How many times do I have to tell you… we are way too old for these trends.”

“No, listen! It’s fun! Let me explain,” Marjorie insisted, practically bouncing with excitement. “You just say, ‘I’m so hungry, I could eat…’ and then drop a random name. Like, someone from your past. Someone that makes people think. You get it?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just say someone’s name?”

“Yes, but it’s funny because it means something,” Marjorie replied with a wink. “Watch. I’m so hungry, I could eat… Madison.”

Mia nearly choked on her tea. “Madison? As in the one who quit last year?”

Charlotte froze, clearly caught off guard. A flush crept up her neck. “There might’ve been… something,” she admitted, barely audible. “I mean… looking back, I definitely had a thing for her…”

Mia leaned back with a grin that spelled trouble. “I knew there was something there. The way you talked about her totally gave it away. Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ve all had our ‘gay awakening,’ so to speak.”

Marjorie beamed. “I also suspected something back then. But don’t worry, she’s gone. No drama. Now we just have juicy confessions without consequences.”

Now the redhead began to grin. “Alright then. I’m so hungry, I could eat… Autumn.”

The words hung in the air like a sudden blackout. The office noise seemed to mute itself. Marjorie’s smile dropped like a stone. “No!” she snapped, too quickly.
Charlotte blinked. Mia sat up straighter, sensing the tremor beneath Marjorie’s reaction.

“Oh wow,” Mia said softly, “that hit a nerve.”

Charlotte folded her arms. “Don’t act like that, Marjorie. Everyone knows you have a thing for her.”

“Yep, you make it way too obvious,” Mia added, eyes locked on Marjorie, whose sudden silence was louder than any denial.

Marjorie tried to compose herself, smoothing her blouse. “You guys are being ridiculous.” But her voice cracked just slightly.

Charlotte smirked. “I mean, if you hadn’t ended up with Reece…”

“…maybe Autumn would’ve been more than just a friend,” Mia finished, her voice playful but pointed.

Marjorie gave an exaggerated sigh and turned away. “You’re both impossible,” she muttered. But her faint, reluctant smile betrayed her retreat.

At the edge of the room, Siobhan had been watching the entire exchange, arms crossed, expression flat. She finally spoke, voice dry and unimpressed. “This trend is childish,” she said. “Honestly, total nonsense.”

Mia didn’t miss a beat. “Oh yeah? I’m so hungry, I could eat… Sorscha Doyle.”

Time stopped.

It wasn’t silence, exactly—it was the absence of motion. Like the air had been yanked out of the room. Charlotte’s breath caught audibly. Marjorie blinked. Siobhan went rigid.

Then came a sharp, ice-edged, “Fuck you,” from Siobhan, loud and defensive. But the slight tremble in her hand and the way she gripped her mug too tightly told a different story.

Without another word, Siobhan grabbed her coffee, stormed past the desks, and marched out of the office. Her chair spun slightly in her wake.

Just as the door clicked shut behind her, it opened again.

“Morning!” came a cheerful voice—light, unsuspecting, and perfectly timed.

Sorscha stepped into the office, adjusting the strap of her bag and shaking off her umbrella. She paused in the doorway, taking in the peculiar silence. Her eyes darted between Marjorie’s frozen smirk, Charlotte’s barely suppressed laughter, and Mia’s triumphant grin.

“…Did I miss something?” she asked slowly.

The three exchanged glances but said nothing.

Sorscha glanced toward the empty desk across the room. She furrowed her brow. “Where’s Siobhan? Wasn’t she just here?”

Charlotte coughed and looked away. Mia spun her chair once, dramatically. Marjorie suddenly became very interested in her keyboard.

Sorscha’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Okay… seriously. What happened?”

A long silence passed. The air, still buzzing with the aftermath of revelations, offered no answers. Just knowing glances. Half-laughs. Unspeakable implications.

Sorscha shook her head slowly, brows furrowed deeper. “You all are so weird,” she muttered. But her voice lacked conviction. Something had happened. Something big. And it involved her.

“Everything’s great. Totally normal. Just a regular morning,” Charlotte said, though she could barely keep from laughing. “Come on, Sorscha, we have to get the room ready!”

She grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her out of the room.

“Are you going to tease Siobhan about this for the rest of eternity?” Marjorie asked.

Mia just grinned. “You can bet on it.”