I waited for him to get to the exciting part, the part worth the dramatic pause.
When he said nothing more, I chuckled to myself.
"What?" He demanded, indignant.
"What? You're such a common dough boy. I bet you even twerk in front of your mirror."
"So? I'm extra cheesy." He said smugly. "I'm kind of a big deal."
I smirked, "Just because they sell you cheap doesn't mean you're all that and a bag of chips."
"You're just jealous." He pouted.
"Am not." My crust furrowed together into a frown.
Why would I be jealous of his delicious looking crust, the bacon bits sprinkled delicately over his layer upon layers of cheese, and that tasty-
Stop, Blueberry, just stop.
His eyes widened a bit, feigning innocence, "You are, aren't you?"
"Why would I be?" I stuck out my filling.
I know, I know, real mature, but come on! He's just so...so...UGH!
"Maybe it's because of my delectable toppings," He pretended to be deep in thought. "Or perhaps that irresistible cheesiness, or-"
I cut him off with a glare.
How did I end up with him in the same oven, out of the hundreds of pies and pizzas?
This was going to be a long bake.
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Pie
Roman d'amourYou should read this. No, seriously, you should; however, this story is only fit to be read by certain people. This story is just the right type for you if you... 1. Love pie 2. Hate pie or... 3. Want to marry pizza However, I happen to be engaged...
