She held the phone out so he could see the extent of her outfit, chuckling and shaking her head at his assumption. “We’re just baking,” she corrected. “No costumes today—unless you count being the Pillsbury dough boy. I think I’ve got enough flour on me for it.” She sometimes found it surprising how effortless it felt speaking to Eli after all this time; they hadn’t been together for what seemed like ages now, but there was no bitterness or bad feelings, just the lingering friendship that they had always promised each other. Her friends had warned her against remaining close to the male after things had originally grown sour, but she appreciated having stuck by him now, enjoying the conversations that transpired between them, especially given the distance between. “We’re making pumpkin cookies!” she exclaimed, turning the camera from her to show off the treats before having it face her once more. “Everyone keeps making fun of how spirited I am.”
The term was done in a false English accent, a jest aimed at her roommates that were hanging around in the background, popping in to say hello to the boy on the other end.
“Is she always like this?” one of the girls asked. “She won’t shut up about this holiday. Nearly jumped up and down when we agreed to make cookies, but she’s doing all the work, so we can’t really complain.”
“I’d like to second that, and I’m not even sure the camera shows the true amount of flour you’re adorning” he added in, “Are you sure there’s even enough for the cookies?” He found himself not only taking in her, but the things going around about her. So far he had picked up on little things - a few cookie sheets, the ingredients that slightly made an appearance, her roommates in the background. Nothing of extreme importance, but he was always looking. A natural response to any situation. Mostly, she just looked happy, and he liked to make sure the reasons were around her. She shot down to the cookies and he found himself silently shaking his head, though the smile never ceased. “You haven’t started with the ghost cookies yet - that’s when the real spirits come out to play!”
Her roommates began to pipe up, causing him to bout in laughter again, “Has she convinced you all to dress up for tomorrow as well? A group costume perhaps?” he hinted, brows raised as if he was first giving off the idea to Seneca. “Where are these cookies going anyway? I feel like you’ve probably set out to feed an army with them!”