Vanilla Girl

C a k e - B a t t e r

"STILL a total clutz I see.."

I want to die.

Trust me to make the ridiculous in front of Michael. He won't ever let me live that one down.

My shoulders drop as I release the breath I'd been holding in what seems like hours. My left hand still clutching my shirt right over my heart.

"Michael, god! You..." Scared me to death, "startled me."

The skin around his eyes crinkles as he laughes down at me. "Oh, really? I didn't notice. Thought chucking eggs to the air and crying like Jack the ripper is after you was a typical day for you."

Smartass.

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms in front of my chest daring him to say one more thing.

"Jack the ripper? How old are you?"

"Older than you."

"Yeah, clearly that two year gap doesn't make you any more wiser." I retort.

He thows his head back in a deep laugh that reverberates through the house.

"Oh Adaline, Adaline..." He shakes his head to the sides still chucking softly. "Nothing's boring when you're around."

I think he just paid me a compliment.

My cheeks warm at the thought so I turn back to my eggs before he could catch sight of them.

Michael walks to the fridge and grabs a carton of milk, gesturing with it towards me. "So what where you up to before I so rudely interrupted?"

My shoulders lift up and down as I wach him lean back againt the counter. "Nothing. I was just preparing breakfast."

His gaze strays to the clock on the wall and back to me. A smirk playing at his lips. "That hungry huh?"

I feel the blush on my cheeks again. My face must be as red as a tomato. "No!" I cry.

I clear my throat. "No. It's not that. Huh...Wyona kind of promised your mum we'll make breakfast this morning so..."

One of Michael's brows raises, "And where is she?"

I fidget, "Uh, she's kind of sleeping I guess..."

He shakes his head incredulously, "Typical of my sister. I shouldn't be surprised there. I doubt she lifted a spoon in the last four months."

I felt like I should defend my friend, but what would I say. He's right. Plus, she left me all alone today when I carefully told her I was barely a catechumen at culinary skills.

So I choose to shut my mouth instead.

Wordlessly, I watch as Michael lifts the milk carton and takes a long gulp.

"There are this things called glasses you know." I wrinkle my nose at him. "I don't think I'll be able to drink milk at your house any more."

He drops the carton down on the counter and sighs, "Great, because I wasn't planning on sharing." Then he throws me a bright smile and walks over to me.

I take the oportunity to let my eyes take him in and I must admit I like what I see. He has filled out this last year. I think he mentioned something about starting the gym but I don't quite remember it. He is clad in a loose white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants that hang around his hips.

His feet are bare and I can clearly see his Morton's toe. I'd caught sight of it four years ago when I came to study with Wyona and joked him about it. He didn't give a damn though as he clearly displayed it around. Which made me think that we all had imperfections, but not all of us were over them.

Seeing Michael walk around barefoot, confortable in his own skin, having a second toe larger than the big toe was something to admire.

Yes, he almost makes me think it even looked cute.

"Need help?" He asks bringing me back.

I clear my throat, snapping my eyes away from his feet and look into his warm eyes. I'm finding difficult to put into words the feelings his request rose in me. Stunned doesn't even make it.

He stares back at me expectantly.

"Huh, yeah, sure." I pass him the bowl and explain how to finish the waffles as I walk to the coffee maker.

We work in comfortable silence for a few minutes. One of the things I like about Michael is that he doesn't feel the need to fill every moment with empty talk. He knows there's beauty in silence too. And is maybe in those moments when you shut up and watch that you learn the most.

We set the waffles on a plate over the breakfast bar and fill two cups of coffee. I place his cup down and then make my way to the stool across from him.

Michael grabs a waffle, spreads strawberry jam over it and eats it in two bites.

He's about to go for another but his hand stops in mid air when he realizes I haven't moved yet.

"I was joking before you know." He says.

I snap my eyes which were fixed on my cup of black coffee. "Huh?"

"I was joking before." He repeats. "You can have my milk."

Then everything comes crashing back to me. Of course, he saw me pitifully stare at my cup of coffee.

"I'm fine." I wave him off.

"Adaline, there's a new unopened carton inside the fridge if you don't want to drink from this one."

The fridge. I consider it for a minute but then give up. I'm tired. I've been on my legs long enough as to make now another trip to the kitchen.

"It's ok." I insist. Even though internally I'm screaming 'what's wrong with you adaline! Get the stupid milk!'

I hear his chair scarp along the floor as he gets down and makes his way to the kitchen.

I swear if he gets back here with the milk...

He opens the fridge and my eyes drink his every movement as he rumages through it. Then he turns around and walks back towards me with the carton of milk in hand.

I think I might cry.

"Thank you." I say, my throat all clogged up as he sets the milk on the bar. He looks at me weirdly but doesn't comment on it.

"You know," He breaks the silence after a while. "You're a terrible liar."

I can't help the smile that spreads across my lips.

"Yeah, or so people told me."

He nods.

"And terribly lazy too."

******

A/N: Oh yes! I'm back to my weekly updates.

I hope you enjoyed this little bonding time between Adaline and Michael.

Q: What do you think will happen when Chris and Wyona wake up?

You'll find out soon enough!

Have a nice week!