Loving The Idiots - Fairy Tail [Nalu, Gruvia, Jerza, Gale, Rowen & More!]

Baking And Confession

Erza

The door opened to frame Jellal Fernandez. He studied me as I crossed one leg over the other, my weight on a wooden chair I'd found in the dining room. My red hair hung behind me like a velvet curtain, whereas Jellal's hair was scruffy on his pale face. Jellal looked up at me—after all, I was atop three stairs, set out like a dais. I flicked my finger to the maid dress Mira had attempted to force me to wear, which Jellal raised an eyebrow to in return.

"Jellal, I want you to wear that maid outfit," I told him, resting one side of my face with my palm. He looked at me, astounded.

"Erza," he replied with the same tone I gave him, "You're meant to be my maid." I smirked; obviously I knew today's task, but I still shook my head. Giving a sigh, Jellal took the maid dress by the hanger, examined it as if it was the worst thing to wear, and walked into a walk-in-wardrobe to change. I tapped my finger impatiently against the wooden material, before toying with a sword I'd summoned. What was taking him so long?

Air swept from one side to another as I swung my sword horizontally. My reflection shimmered against its metal body, showing my polished armour and face. I was deciding to head in to check whether Jellal had freed himself from my grasp, when the wardrobe opened and Jellal appeared. His face was flushed, his hair even messier as if he'd run his hand through many times. Most of all, it was funny to see his muscular chest show underneath the thin material of the dress.

"Well then, maid," I spoke, exaggerating my label I gave him, "I expect 15 strawberry cupcakes for this evening. We'll be having a bake-off, since there are two kitchens. Whoever wins will get that." My eyes shimmered dangerously as I turned my gaze to a large, wedding cake-sized strawberry cake. I felt a drop of saliva come down the corner of my mouth. Quickly I wiped it off with a tissue from the table next to me.

Jellal smiled, "I would allow you to have it anyway—".

"No," I cut in, "We're playing fair," I ordered, tearing my gaze from the cake. My whole nerve system erupted as soon as my eyesight could no longer see the strawberry cake. To stop the urge, I bit down my lip and allowed my nails to dig into my skin.

I gave a nod to Jellal, who jogged to his kitchen. His black maid dress nearly made him stumble his way there, but he quickly picked it up awkwardly. Confidence filled my body as I went into my own kitchen, took out cupcake instructions and starting baking.

The instructions told me to put in a teaspoon of sugar. I clenched my fingers over that particular sentence and snorted. Holding out the spoon for soup, I poured almost 3/4 of the packet of sugar and slammed it into my overfilling bowl of vanilla, butter and eggs. The delicious wave of cake smell wafted into my nose, and I grinned at the scent.

I then furrowed my brow at a burning smell. Holding my nose at its peak, I sprinted to the oven which was over heating. Luckily, there was no cake in there just yet—I gave a breath of relief at that. I'd been too busy inhaling the scent of my unfinished cake, I hadn't checked the temperature of the oven, which was way higher than what the instructions suggested.

Grunting in effort, I sorted out the temperature and resumed beating the butter, sugar, eggs and vanilla. The mixture splattered around the walls, and the ceiling. It even found its way to my apron I'd bought this morning at the crack of dawn. I groaned at the mess, wondering why. It told me to beat the mixture, so of course it meant to use all your strength! The instructions should've had a "warning" which included the fact you'd cause a mess.

After, I proceeded to take out my collection of white paper cover and poured the mixture into 15 of them. With a satisfied grin, I pushed it into the oven.

"Hey, Jellal!" I called, stomping my way into his kitchen. I gasped at how tidy his room was, and then the cupcakes he was decorating. "That's cool," I pointed out, craning to see over his shoulder.

He blocked my view and turned around to face me, "Aren't you not allowed to interfere during the competition?"

I placed my hands on my hips, "There weren't any rules!" Jellal raised an eyebrow. "Fine, then. You'll soon see mine's way better than yours."

The oven was creating an annoying dinging noise when I arrived back in. Immediately turning it off, I jerked on my oven gloves, and violently pulled out my strawberry cakes. With a shaky hand, I took some yellow, red and blue icing and decided to decorate my cakes.

My tongue was poking out of my lips as I concentrated, swirling pictures of swords and stick men. I'd scribbled some out, too, when realising the words I'd written could not be deciphered. "There," I told myself, examining one of my own. "All ready."

Wiping my hands on some tissue, I brought out my 15 cakes on top of a plate. Already set on a table were Jellal's, who was no doubt happy after he already knew he won. I diverted my gaze to the tall and large strawberry cake—the trophy and prize to the winner.

"I've a special one for you, Erza," Jellal said calmly as he took one out from the centre of his plate. I held it between my fingers, reading his message out loud.

"Scarlet," was all it read, as well as love hearts around my name.

Seeing that made me blush madly. "W-what?"

"I-I like you Erza. And you don't have to like me back, but—".

I nearly slapped myself for what I said next: "What about your fiancée?"

His face fell. It was obvious he was trying to lighten the mood of things; saying random jokes and teasing me as he ate the large strawberry cake in front of me...

But I felt terrible. So terrible I couldn't sleep that night.

(05/04/17)