Alette

6: making it all better

S I X

♡♡♡

Alette's POV

The inside of my house was tranquil. Sunlight streamed through the windows, making me feel at peace.

It was quiet; Grams and Uncle Syl were out doing whatever it is that they did, which meant that him and I were alone.

That realization made me feel shy and giddy at the same time. 

And nervous. 

Extremely nervous. 

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked him softly. "It's hot, maybe some lemonade? Oh! I baked a strawberry pie this morning, do you want a slice of..." I trailed off at the end, my face heating up.

"Um...let's just go to the kitchen," I stated. We had been standing in the front hallway for way too long. I walked to the kitchen, hoping he'd follow me. He did.

"Here's the um...kitchen," I said awkwardly, gesturing around. Stop it Faye, he'll want to leave.

"Do you want some lemonade?" I asked hopefully, twiddling my thumbs. He stood at the door of the kitchen, his big frame filling up the space.

He stared at me, and after a pause, shook his head slowly.

My face fell. Well dang mister. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you're not a baby.

I could feel my lips form into a pout. "Do you want some...pie maybe? It's really good; I made it all myse-" he nodded before I could finish my sentence.

Thank goodness. 

I happily nodded along with him, and walked to the wooden island where the beautiful pie was sitting on top a pink cake stand with a glass cover. I lifted the cover and grabbed a pink plate, obviously, and a knife.

Trying, and failing, to ignore his presence, I cut off a decent slice of pie and placed it on the plate. I grabbed a spoon and brought the plate to a little table that was in the corner of the kitchen.

"Here you go, I hope you like it," I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping he would like it.

He walked over to the table and pulled out a chair. Sitting down, he stared at the lone piece of pie, not making any moves to eat it.

Did he want a different coloured plate? Probably not. Maybe some more pie? He didn't even start eating this piece yet.

What if he didn't want to be watched while he was eating, my subconscious chimed in, and that was probably it.

"Um...I'm going to go change so that I can fix the dress, I'll be upstairs, you can just...wait here," I told him, taking a few steps backwards, then I swiftly turned around and speed walked away.

I reached the first step, and peered at him, sitting in the kitchen. I was not spying...just observing.

I held my breath and waited for few seconds until finally, and excruciating slowly, he picked up the spoon, broke off a piece of pie, and brought it up to his mouth.

Heck yeah! I did a little celebratory dance, and then raced up the stairs to my room to grab something to wear.

My room was on the third floor of our little cottage, and it was one of my most favourite places in the world. I truly didn't get out much. Much like the outside of our home, my room was filled with plants and sunlight. I had a wooden bed, desk, and vanity, and a large window seat with a million throw pillows. No amount of throw pillows was ever enough. Same with blankets. I also had a small sofa in the corner of the room, and books strewn across the room, as well as some clothing, and some of my stuffed toys.