That One Winter Night <> CS55

Seven

Don't forget to comment and vote!
That One Winter Night
7. "Are you making pancakes?"

That Christmas Song
/Nat King Cole/
------------↺  ⏻  ↻----------- ♥︎

Everyone filed into the cabin with sighs of exhaustion. The day on the snowmobile and everything else left the group exhausted, especially Marjorie.

It wasn't even the snowmobiles that really got her, it was the amount of thinking she had to do today- as silly as that sounds. Her mind was a never ending carousel of thoughts, each different but connected thought spun around inside her mind until she gained a headache- and it even then it didn't let up.

She still wasn't use to the idea of liking Carlos Sainz's presence and now she had to deal with the idea of liking him. She couldn't handle it, how only a few words from Jess made her spiral. A month ago she -pretended- to gag at the mere mention of his name! And now she was getting butterflies in her chest and rose dusted cheeks when Jess asked if they had kissed.

Am I actually loosing it? Was a constant thought in her head.

It was even affecting her sleep! Which she thought was a step too far.

After they all had gotten home, everyone was quick to shuffle off to bed and quickly fall asleep. Well, not everyone had been so lucky.

Marjorie's let's out a quiet groan despite being in the rook by herself as she had tossed and turned inside the warm sheets of her bed for the past hour. The dim alarm clock next to her seemed to mock her with the time stamp of 12:00am.

Eventually she couldn't take it, she sat up in bed with a frown before sliding out of her bed. The cold feet made her shiver but she still stood up with the intention of getting a glass of water to help with sleep.

The entire cabin was quiet and Marjorie found it comforting in a way she usually wouldn't. She loved background noise because it filled the space and made her feel less alone, but now the pure silence made her feel calm. Her mind was already a loud enough place, her quiet environment evened it out for her.

However she pauses when she hears a small clang come from the kitchen followed by a mumbled "mierda"

Her brows furrowed and her foot hovers over the last step of the wooden staircase. She recognizes the voice, even mumbled, easily and it makes her shoulders stiffen.

She was going to the kitchen to get away from her thoughts of the Spaniard and now he was in the kitchen for some reason.

She gulps back her nerves and finally works the courage to continue on her way to the kitchen. Her steps become more fluid when a tempting smell fills the kitchen after she hears the soft sound of a sizzling pan.

Her face continues to be scrunched up in confusion when she walks into the kitchen to be met with the clothed back of Carlos. He's obvious she's there clearly because he's quieting humming a song she's not familiar with as he stands over the stove.

For a minute she just watches him, she can see the way his back muscle move underneath the simple white t shirt as he moves over the stove. She considers leaving for a second, her mind was already too full of thoughts about him and what she thinks about him, did she really want her space filled with him too?