skinny love | solangelo

Brownies

this is 1500 words of pure, self-indulgent, fluff. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it.
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~Will

I woke up to the sound of tapping on my window. When I opened my eyes, I didn't see any light. The sleeping breaths of my siblings echoed all around me.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I creeped out of bed and tiptoed over to the incessant tapping.

I couldn't see anything outside, so being a dimwit, I opened up the window. "Who's out there?"

A small body tumbled into my cabin through the window, landing with a light thump and a chuckle on the ground. "Your boyfriend."

I couldn't see Nico in the dark, only his pale skin. He was like a vampire. "What are you doing here? How did you get past the harpies?"

"The harpies are scared of me," he said dismissively, "But that's not the point. Do you want to make brownies?"

"How did you get brownie mix?!"

He snorted, "Do you think I'm that uncivilized? I meant brownies from scratch! I memorized the recipe when I was a little kid."

In that moment, he looked like a little kid. I grinned, "Hell, yes."

We snuck out the window the same way that Nico first got in here.

It was odd being outside at night. The harpies were growling at us from a distance, but didn't look like they wanted to get any closer.

We raced quietly along down to the Big House. Instead of going to the front, Nico turned left and headed around to the side of the building, ending up in front of an old and rusted door.

Whispering, I asked, "Where does this lead?" An excited look appeared in Nico's eyes.

"The kitchens! We used to use them, but now we just use the plates." Lo and behold, he pulled a magical plate out of the back of his jeans.

"How-?"

"I stole it a while ago. Never returned it." I refrained from reprimanding him. Nico kicked at the door handle. After a few tries, the knob became loose and he twisted it open.

Walking into the dust-covered room, I questioned, "How did you find this place?"

He walked in after me and shut the door, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I was shadow-traveling. I used to visit Camp once in awhile, but I always stayed in the forest or somewhere abandoned." Nico's eyes traveled around the room, drinking in the site of old wood and old equipment. The walls were wood, the floors were wood, the ceiling was wood.

He placed the plate down on a countertop and found his way to the cabinets, creaking them open in search of a bowl and measuring cups. There was a glass bowl on the top shelf, but no matter how high he jumped, his fingers never reached it.

I rolled my eyes at his antics, and walked up behind him, pressing my hands down on his head. I easily reached my arms up to grab the bowl. Setting it down on the counter, I muttered, "Shortie," and let my arms relax on his shoulders.

"Beanpole." He didn't move away though. Grabbing the plate, he said, "Flour." There appeared - to my surprise - a little bag of exactly what he asked for. Flour.

Nico got all of the ingredients he needed (with me still basically laying on his back), and got them all into the bowl.

"Do you do this often? Sneak out to make brownies at midnight?" He chuckled and I felt it in my chest.