Cake Isn’t Technically Therapy, But Gosh, Doesn’t It Help? // golden giant
adella-the-idyllic:
Adella had just logged into her computer behind the receptionist’s desk and looked up - and up - to greet Ralph with her standard sunny smile but it was so, so very forced today. If she felt this terribly, how must Attina feel? It wasn’t fair. Thinking about it just made her want to cry, but life can’t stop on account of Attina, Panic, and Amelia. It goes on.
“Good morning, Ralph.” The greeting wasn’t followed by a dumb joke, or a ‘guess what?’ like usual.
“How was your weekend?” Adella remembered to ask, because that’s normally what Adella would say on a Monday. The Swynlake gossip game meant that hopefully he wouldn’t ask her the same.
Oh yeah, something was majorly wrong. Usually at this point in the conversation, she had already made three bad puns and one innuendo, but no. Not this morning. There was just an awkward, pasted on grin and weird small talk.
Shit. He wasn’t equipped for this.
“It was... forty-eight hours of my life passing by, I guess,” Ralph said with a shrug. “Nothing exciting.” He almost asked “And you?” but his brain - for fucking once - did its damn job and stopped his foot before it got to his mouth.
Taking a deep breath, Ralph tapped a finger nervously on the lid of the cake box before pushing it towards her. “I uh... Didn’t get a chance to call on Saturday, but I know it was your birthday so... here.”
He leaned down a little closer. “Oaken wanted to throw a surprise party, but no one should deal with that amount of glitter on a Monday, and I’m still emotionally recovering from the last office party so I hope this is okay.”









