Percival pov
2 hours later…
I slump on the linoleum floor finally satisfied with the sandwiches. Glancing at the clock on the oven I see that is is 2:30. Now I'm wondering how it possibly could have taken me so long to make a few sandwiches! “Percy! Where’d you go, I thought we were going to have lunch.” Jocelyn yells through the halls. I respond with a shout of my own, “I'm in the kitchen.” Jocelyn finds me as I am. Laying on the cold hard floor… In a huge mess of shredded turkey peices, melted cheese, and oily basil pesto sauce. “Oh my gosh percy! What the heck happens in here?!”
“I was just trying to make you lunch.” I pout trying for an innocent look. (little does she know that the turkey wouldn't come out of the package so I accidentally-on-purpose murdered it with a bread knife). “Percy this is not lunch, this is what we call a murdered meal!” she puts her hands on her hips and tries to look stern. She smiles though ruining that right away. Shaking her head and walking over to my sad form on the ground, she helps me up. She plucks shredded turkey off my arms, and wipes bread crumbs off my shirts. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I think her hands linger over my stomach just as it growls. Shakes her head and tries to pull string of melted mozzarella cheese from my hair. “What did you do, take a bath in this stuff?!” the stringy cheese only stretches, it doesn't come out if my straggly hair. “Percy, you are a mess. How about this… you go shower and change, and I will make lunch?” she looks up into my eyes still,trying to get long strands of cheese off my head. I nod slowly, and she backs up taking her hands out of my hair. Without realizing it, I am missing the feel her fingers in my hair.I silently chastise myself when I close the kitchen for behind me.
