Sixth Chocolate | Ray (The Promised Neverland Fanfiction)

Eighth Chocolate

At the age of nine, she knew how to bake other than cookies — such as cupcakes, muffins, and macarons. She also knew how to make chocolates, since it's the required ingredient in some of her pastries.

When someone's going to their foster homes, she's making chocolate cupcakes as a souvenir and also a reserved food throughout their journey. Sometimes, she almost cried during her work because it's painful to see your siblings departing right before your eyes and on the next day, you'll not see them again.

"Yo. Still working?" Ray entered the kitchen with a book that grasped by his right hand. He just came out from Mama's office for confidential purposes and he just visited the hardworking girl to monitor the progress of the baked food. A year has passed, he's the first one who tastes her works. From being bitter into sweet that coated on his tongue.

All those years they've spent together, he still wondered why he was going here and became her taster all along. He's already occupied from plotting escape in this house, after all.

Abigail heard his mellow voice when she put the molds in the oven. Closing it, she tapped the required time first before paying her attention to her usual visitor. Later on, she faced Ray, who's already sitting on the stool, across the counter she've been working on and his eyes' already trailing her movements. She wiped her fingers through her apron and moved towards him. "Yo!" She greeted while grabbing a tall wooden stool and seated on it. "Ye, but I'll be done in a few minutes."

"If you want help, just say it." He said before he started to flip the book on a certain page and silently scanned those passage through his eyes. Abigail, on the other hand, was staring on another ravenette boy. Elbows leaned on the counter, she laid her right cheek on her palms and she felt this warmth again every time she's with this particular person. She didn't know the definition of it but she was happy that it breezed by on her.

"Ne, Ray." She articulated and it broke the silence of the room. "Hm?" He hummed, eyes' still on the page.

"Why are you still hanging out with me? We are not as close as Norman and Emma."

"I like sweets." He answered veraciously as he turned the page of the book and scrutinizing the content of it. Then, he finally looked at her and confessed, "Also, I like your pastries. It suppresses my stress when I'm eating it."

Smiling, he added. "I also like your company. That's why I'm still with you."