For What It's Worth

Chapter Fifteen : Quick Fix

"Hey. Who's this?" I hear a bubbly but questioning voice.

"It's Thomas. Is this Violet?" I keep my volume quiet in case Isabelle can hear me.

"It is. Not to sound rude... but why are you calling me?" She chuckles.

"I need your help." I start.

"Why is something wrong?"

"No, no. Well I don't know. Maybe." I struggle, wiping my face. She starts to say something but stops at the sound of another voice I can hear in the background.

"Yeah. It's Thomas, you know, Isabelle's boyfriend or whatever." I smile. I like the sound of that.

"If that's Eva then speaking to both of you could be pretty helpful." I wait for Eva to join Violet and she quickly says hello down the line.

"Hi. So, Isabelle's had a rough day and I want to make it up to her but I'm not good at this kind of stuff and you guys are in a relationship so I thought who better to ask than you guys. You also know Isabelle so that helps, but I want it to be perfect for her, well not perfect because that's impossible but almost... perfect." I explain. It all goes silent for a while. I check that my phone hasn't died and that they're still there.

"Hello?"

"What the hell has she done to you?" They laugh. "That doesn't sound like the Thomas King everyone talks about." They joke and then pause to think. "Well, knowing Isabelle – she would appreciate something that's a lot more personal than materialistic."

"Something small and meaningful." Eva chips in. "She'll love that." 

**

Isabelle

I stub my boots out on the mat, coming home from class. It's been a quiet, gloomy day. I haven't seen anyone to speak to so I've only said about three words today. Thomas was still asleep when I woke up so I haven't seen him. I don't particularly feel like seeing him either, yesterday was just a lot to deal with – mentally. I hardly slept last night. I'm surprised I did at all but my body was so tired that I had to. I feel heavy, like I'm being weighed down.

Taking my coat off, I hang it up and I catch a whiff of an odd smell that is lingering through the apartment. With my nose leading me, I make my way around the apartment. Stepping into the kitchen, Thomas is busy arranging a batch of cookies. 

I silently rest my head against the door frame, watching him while he inaudibly mutters to himself. Seeing him now, somehow instantly changes how I was feeling earlier.

He takes a step back, hands on his hips and assess his work. I run my tongue over my teeth starting to smile. He looks extremely out of place and uncomfortable with his abilities. I clear my throat.

"Oh you're back. Here." He proudly opens his arms out. "I made you some cookies."

Okay. That's kind of cute.  

Cautiously, I step forward eyeing the display. A lot of them are burnt and dark around the edges but I assume this is probably the first time he's ever made cookies before.

"I haven't had any yet so they're for you to judge." I pick one from the front, one that looks the best. I put it between my teeth. He widens his eyes, awaiting my reaction.

It's rock solid for a start but with a snap I manage to bite into it. I can't make out any specific flavor other than it being burnt and bitter. I put on a pleasant face, feeling too bad to say anything. I can see he's spent time and effort on them.

"Mmm, they're nice."  I struggle to chew it, covering my mouth. His face falls.

"You're lying, aren't you?" He asks, disappointedly.