Chapter 22: Cake for Thought

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  Copyright © zylgnagnaba 2013

Okay, so I don’t know how to bake. That’s the problem! I don’t even know how to hold a pan or a spatula properly, let alone to bake.

Harry and I have been arguing for almost two hours now, on whether we should just buy or make a cake for Liam’s birthday. My point is Liam would appreciate it more if we make him a cake, but I can’t, so I told Harry that he’ll bake and I’ll be on his side in case he needs help.

“I told you, Valerie. I only know a little about baking. We will save more time and energy if we just buy him one,” is his argument. He is standing by the sink, washing the dishes as he turns his head once in a while to glance at me. I am sitting by the counter on a bar stool, digging the Nutella with a spoon and shove it in my mouth.

“If you really want to bake him a cake, then you do it.” He adds after closing the faucet, and rubs both his hands on his apron. I only look at him in annoyance once he finally turns around to face me.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know how to bake,” I raise my voice while I frown, shaking my head in disapproval. I glance down to the table, reading the label wrapped around the bottle of the product I am devouring. “If I only know how, then I won’t even need your help.” I tell him, sighing at the end pathetically. I glance back at him with a meek smile and he looks at me with a pity smile.

It took seconds, minutes in exchanges of gazes with each other before he finally arch one of his brows and let go of a breathe, “Fine.” He says through a grunt and I feel my face lit up at his words. Yes, we’re going to bake a cake for Liam!

I practically hop off of my stool, dropping the spoon on the counter, and jump to give him a big bone-crashing hug out of excitement. He chuckles a bit while I am still in his arms and when I pull away, he frowns at me. I furrow my brows as I stare at him quizzically, not exactly knowing what’s running in his mind.

“We’re still not through discussing about what you did with my lips, baby,” He says with a jeering tone, looking at me intently with his big emerald eyes. His utterance is still a bit sloppy, and if I haven’t look down on his lips, I wouldn’t even notice his lower lip still a little bit puffy.

“I’m so exhausted!” Harry gusts as he slumps his bum on the couch, his arms limply falls on his sides and his head lay down on the back. It was indeed a very tiresome event. Even I, who didn’t do much – just sitting around and watch the performances—in the VMA can feel the tediousness in the very bones of my body.

As soon as I pull off my wedge-shoes from my feet, I quickly plop down next to him and sigh as well. It is such a relief now that my feet can finally breathe. I will never get used with those stuffs. I won’t really need them after all most of the time. I’m way taller for a girl.

I comfortably pull my feet up to the couch and hug my knees. Without hesitation, I lay my head on Harry’s shoulder and he gladly welcomes it as he tips his head back up, nestling his chin against the top my head in the process. I can even hear the heavy breathing and the hammering of his chest as I lean against his chest while he wraps an arm around my slender physique. This is just one of those times that I acknowledge us without arguing, just being there beside each other when we both feel weak and tired.

“Harry?” I call him with a soft voice. Even my sound is a bit affected by the decreasing vitality of my body.

He hums, allowing me to continue.

“Why does Taylor hate you so much? She’s been bitter for so long. You must have done something for her to be like that.”

My words cause us to pull apart in a very casual way. I am now sitting on my ankles as my knees are bent below me. I look in his eyes in search of answers to my queries, but it doesn’t give any. He just smiles at me and shakes his head a bit in a ‘can’t believe you’re asking me that’ way.

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