Holiday snippets 3/3 - Jewel

Taking out the first batch of almond cookies from the oven, Jewel lets out a heart-shattering sigh. The resignation in it is colored by slim traces of mirth, though. “I told you I’m not much of a cook.”

The self-depreciation is over-the-top. Yes, the pastries are slightly charred along the edges, and their shape deformed by the heat, but their aroma is absolutely divine and when you snatch one from the tray a burnt tongue is a small sacrifice for the melt-in-your-mouth crispy-on-top chewy-inside deliciousness.

“It tastes good though,” you mutter blowing on the cookie to cool it off faster. “Who cares if they’re a bit wonky.”

Okay, maybe Reed will tease you later, but you have plenty of dirt on him to shut him up if he tries something. Besides, even if it wasn’t his idea to split the workload, if he wanted a gourmet dessert he ought to prepare one himself, just in case. Especially since everyone knows he lives off praise, and it’s not exactly a hardship for either you or Jewel to tell him ‘good job’ once a while.

Jewel would hate to come to dinner empty-handed, however, and in her mind providing the beverages won’t suffice as your contribution to the dinner. Still, you’re the last one to complain about spending some extra time together, even if it’s cooking. Or attempting to.

“A bit... sure.” Giving the cookies a critical look, Jewel hums, apparently having given up on the plan of salvaging them with a copious amount of frosting and sprinkles. “We have enough products to make a second serving, right?”

Of course you do. It’s not like Jewel would let herself be unprepared for a contingency. “What about these?”

“If they were any more burnt I’d say ‘trash’.”

“No way! I’ll eat them all myself, see if I don’t.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm.” Ducking to take a bite of the cookie you’re holding Jewel chews for a moment then makes a thoughtful noise. Her frown clears as her brow raises in surprise.

“See?”

“My bad.” She grins, putting the baking tray on the cleanest counter. “You were right, as always.” Not only that, but you’re also aware that she’ll keep agonizing over this ‘failure’ until you get a batch of sweets that looks more presentable, no matter what you do or say.

With her hands free again, she absentmindedly lifts one towards her face to brush away a strand of hair that sticks to the residues of oil on her cheek. Her fingers leave a trail of flour in their wake, and the lock at once returns to its place as if undisturbed.

Seeing Jewel scrunch her nose in annoyance, you can’t resist the temptation of fooling around a bit.

“Here, I’ll help.” Making a move as though to fix her hair, you bypass the strand at the last possible moment to press your palm over Jewel’s skin, leaving a print. “Organic powder, cruelty-free.”

“Are you sure about that?!”

“Yea-”

You’re, sadly, not fast enough to duck, and Jewel catches onto you immediately, grabbing a handful of flour from the nearby sack and throwing it right at you, making sure you’re covered in it from your head to your toes.

Unable to stop laughing, you get a mouthful of it as well. The taste isn’t bad, if bland and a bit choking. Nevertheless, Jewel’s wide and satisfied smile makes the mess oh-so worth it.

“Troublemaker,” she calls you, biting her lower lip to keep herself from smiling.

It’s a futile endeavor, and when you meet her eyes you both burst into another fit of giggles that only ends when she takes a hold of your face, giving you matching stamps on both sides to complete your new look.

You don’t get to protest nor sputter, because she uses her grasp on you to draw you closer to herself, making sure your mouth is too occupied for useless words or complaints.

“So...” You’re breathless when you pull away, both from the earlier mirth and now the kiss as well. You can hardly hold back a grin that breaks onto your expression, and the sight of Jewel’s nose absolutely covered in white makes it all that harder to keep your composure to ask with a straight face, “How was it?”

“Hm?”

She’s still looking at your lips, but you tap them with a finger to drive the point across. “Tasty?”

“Silly,” she snorts, squeezing your cheeks. “I need one more try to tell.”

“You can have two.”

And three and- hell, who’s even counting.