The Love of Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader || One-Shots

A Story to Tell

Red and yellow ribbons of scorching heat sparked and danced under the celestial sky. Sitting in your high-back chair, you listened to the ongoing banter among your daughters, vying for who could roast the perfect marshmallow. So far, Bela was the closest.

"Cass, keep your stick away from mine." She focused her sight on the growing, luminous flames as she kept her marshmallow at a safe distance.

Cassandra grunted at her. "My stick is nowhere close to yours. Besides, you've got the better spot. Just look at how weak the flames are on my side."

"It's about the same," Daniela noted, eyeing her own and becoming disappointed once it caught fire for the fifth time.

Holding your roasting stick over the fire, you glanced over at Alcina, who was enjoying her s'more. You weren't nick-picky about yours. Having that burnt taste of charred crispiness rolling on your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth was as good as it could get.

"Girls, girls! Let me show you how it's done," Karl declared. Standing over the campfire, he positioned his stick six inches above the coals. "Now pay close attention. There's a secret behind achieving that golden marshmallow you're all striving for."

Alcina couldn't keep a straight face. "A secret, you say? Please, do share it with us."

"It's a science, Alci. Unless you want to be an amateur who jabs their stick into the fire to let it sit there, you gottta consider your positioning. How you rotate the marshmallow matters, you have to keep it turning like a rotisserie chicken. But you can't be waving it around like a flag, or else you'll end up with a firebomb." 

Since his explanation piqued your curiosity, you aimed your stick downwards and heeded his advice. You heard Alcina shift in her chair; she tapped her stick against your armrest cushion to get your attention. "Don't tell me you're going to follow his advice?"

"Why wouldn't she? After all, I am the expert here," Karl boasted. "I'll show her how to roast her treat."

"Her marshmallow won't be the only thing that gets roasted," she retorted, tempted to wipe that haughty smirk off his face.

You placed your hand on her arm to placate her. This camping trip was happening because Karl had suggested that it would be a fantastic family getaway for a few days. Waking up to the refreshing smell of the pine forest, the sound of insects humming, numerous trails waiting to be hiked, having campfires, and catching fish could not be turned down.

"Cass! You just messed up my marshmallow!" Bela accused. "I told you to keep your stick away from mine."

She bristled at her. "I didn't mean to, you know. I bumped it by accident."

"I just spent like ten minutes making it a heavenly puff of perfection, and now it's blackened."

"Like your soul," Cassandra quipped, dodging the burned marshmallow Bela flung at her.

"Just grab another one and start over, Bel. It doesn't take that long."

"Eh, too late," Daniela mumbled sheepishly. "I might've eaten the last one." She gestured at the bag of Jet-Puffed marshmallows, which were now empty. Most of them were smeared on her lips, chin, and fingers.

"You just ate the rest of them without roasting them?" Bela asked, annoyed that she had no choice but to settle for her imperfect one.

Daniela shrugged her shoulders, licking the stickiness off each finger with contentment. "Sorry, I lost interest after mine caught fire again. I like to eat them plain."

"Tell me you didn't eat the rest of the Hershey bars, too?"

"No, those are with me," Alcina expressed, holding up the package.