Until You're Cured

Three Days

A/N: Hey guys. So as you can tell, there are only two more chapters after this one. At this time, I have it all written and you should expect it in just a little bit. I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’m using this as an excuse to not be doing make up homework because I know my teacher won’t take it but my dad insists.

Thanks so much for reading this, it’s been my favorite thing to write that I’ve ever done. I love you guys.

Emmi

Three Days

I wake up and smell cake. Not just any cake, Mrs. Hoying’s best chocolate cake. I have to force myself not to sprint up the stairs, but I do climb the stairs.

At the top of the stairs is Mrs. Hoying, pulling the cake out of the oven. There it is, heaven in a pan. I’m not even exaggerating, this shit is to die for.

“Smells incredible, Mrs. Hoying,” I say. She turns around, smiles at me in thanks, and turns back around to put the cake on cooling racks.

“Thank you, Mitchell. Would you like to help me with something? Is Scott still asleep?” she asks.

“You’re welcome, and yes to both questions. What do you need help with?”

“The icing. My arms are tired and so are my legs and I need to sit down. If I tell you how much of what to put in, can you make it?”

“Of course.” I answer quickly. Honestly, I’ve been wanting to know how she makes this stuff for years.

She settles into  a chair at the table after getting out the four ingredients. I’m amazed that all that’s here is just sugar, butter, milk and unsweetened chocolate. She dictates how much of things I put in and when.  She yells at me when I dip my finger in to taste it, saying, “Don’t contaminate it. Jeez, Mitchell, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to do that?”

“No. She’d just tell me to get out of the kitchen, she was cooking, she was busy,” I say, a hint of sadness in my voice.

“Do you miss your mom? Being here all the time?”

“No. The one day I went home she was not happy to see me. She didn’t want me and she acts like it’s my fault. But that doesn’t matter right now, does it?” I say, grinning.

“No, not right now, but, soon I’d like to talk to you about it. Right now, we are going to finish the birthday boy’s breakfast.” She tells me, picking up a large serrated knife. She cuts the top off of two of the three round cakes, puts one on a plate, and smears icing all over it. Then she adds the second top and repeats. “Take this to Scott and tell him happy 18th birthday for me.”

 

When I reach the bed, Scott is miraculously still asleep. I set the plate on his nightstand and climb in next to him again. I press light kisses against his neck and jaw and finally his lips. After a moment, he kisses back.

“Good morning, Mr. Eighteen. Your mom says happy birthday. I helped with your breakfast.” I say.

“Now I’m scared,” Scott teases. I hand him the plate and he takes a bite. “What even did you do?”

“Made the icing,” I answer.

“You lucky fucker. She doesn’t let anyone do that. It is good though. I wonder if it’d taste better on you…” There’s a wicked gleam in his cerulean eyes and I love it. Scott cuts another bite out of the cake tops and holds out his fork. I reach to take it and he shakes his his head. “No, let me.”

He feeds me the bite and as soon as I swallow, his lips are on mine. My tongue slips into his mouth and I can taste the rich, dark chocolate, and under it, I can taste Scott. He gently pushes me down and climbs on top of me. His knee presses between my legs and a jolt of electricity runs through me. I want him so bad right now and he’s making it hard to resist, the way he’s kissing my neck and touching my body.