🍴 (Aurelia)
🍴 … your muse making mine a breakfast
“W-what’s going on?”
Elaria woke up to the sound of clanging pots and pans, the distinctive smell of something cooking wafting through the Twelfth floor. Nobody ever cooked on this floor. She hardly saw anything of the other mentor, the escort mostly worked at home, and she wasn’t confident in Aelin’s cooking abilities.
She got up from her bed, petrified for a moment that someone had broken in. That they might be dangerous. She grabbed the knife she kept near her bed. Why would someone break in and cook breakfast? She thought, though it did little to quell her unease.
Hiding the blade behind her back, she stepped out into the common area, eyes wide, scanning the room. Suddenly her eyes caught on the smiling face of the therapist, Aurelia.
“W-what’s going on?” She asked, placing the knife on one of the shelves, deciding she didn’t need it.
“I’m making breakfast.” Aurelia smiled.
“Why?”
All she was met with then was a light shrug and a plate of scrambled eggs. God, she really didn’t want to talk about her problems right now. She eyed the plate for a moment, before deciding it seemed harmless enough, and hooked into the first homemade breakfast she’d had in a long time, chatting with Aurelia for aged.
And, damn, they were probably the best scrambled eggs she’d ever had.
