Chronicles of Fralana

Impatience

"You're doing it wrong."

Lana nearly kicks backward to kick his kneecaps but thinks better, realizing he's standing right behind her and would fall forward and send her into the bright red sauce he's helping spice, and damn it her mom just sent this apron and she doesn't want to ruin it just yet.

"Don't crush them too much, " Francesco instructs, taking the wooden spoon from his girlfriend's hand, careful to avoid the sharp nails newly done for tomorrow's photo shoot. "You want them to have a little body so it's not watery."

"Why couldn't we have gotten the jarred kind at Costco." Lana mumbles, watching him measure out teaspoons of this and tablespoons of that.

"Because it's not as good," He replies calmly, looking over her shoulder to read spice labels. Reaching for a knife he smiles against her neck, "Now we chop the onions..."

"Nu uh," Lana ducks under his arms to walk away from the counter, "I just did my eyeliner and it's not waterproof, do it yourself."

______________________________

"Lana?"

"..."

"Lana... Why is there a cigarette floating in my sauce?"

"It was an accident!"

"It was our dinner!"

"You said it had to simmer for hours."

"And?"

"I'm hungry now."

"Fine, what do you want now?"

She's walking by him suddenly completely dressed with bulky white sunglasses on, shoving car keys in his back pocket with a smile, "Taco bell. You're driving."