Sweet as a Strawberry

39 ~ Sweet as a Milkshake

A/N: a couple of things: remind me please if you've sent me a cover because I really can't remember for the life of me who has and who hasn't and I really want everyone to see your beautiful work.

Chapter 39: Sweet as a Milkshake

"Lottie," I heard.

"Go away."

"Lottie."

My mind was foggy and I couldn't make sense of what was going on. I stretched and pressed my face into my pillow. "No, go away," I said sleepily.

I heard a couple of thuds and sighed, trying to fall asleep again. But then I felt a soft tickling on my face and wrinkled my nose. "Why?" I whined, opening my eyes. "Who even-"

"Happy birthday," Ben said. He had on a conical paper hat that fastened under his chin and was decorated with poorly drawn blue balloons. He looked extremely uncomfortable and that made me want to laugh.

"You look great," I said, smiling at him. He leant down so that instead of kneeling, he was on his elbows and eye-level with me.

"I always look great," he replied and patted my head like I was a dog. "Your dad made it."

I stretched out my aching arms and accidentally smacked Ben in the face. "Oops, sorry," I said, patting his cheek. He just laughed and sat up, pulling me with him. I yawned and said, "I'm so tired."

"Your dad made you breakfast, so you should get up."

I cocked my head. "What did he do? Defrost the waffles or put the bread in the toaster?"

"It's a special day, I think he made both."

Abruptly, I leant forward and kissed Ben's cheek, then I stood up, scratching the back of my head. "Let's go then, I'm hungry." Ben stood up as well and yanked the adorable birthday hat off of his head, jamming it onto mine instead.

"That thing was giving me a double chin," he grumbled, running his hand across his jaw.

"Don't blame the hat, Benny," I teased. He just scoffed and nudged my shoulder. I noticed he had put his shirt back on, but I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. I shook my head fiercely to get rid of the image.

"Charlotte!" Papa exclaimed when I entered the kitchen. I grinned at him and ran up to him, giving him a big hug. "Happy birthday, poppet," he said, holding me tightly.

"I heard you cooked me breakfast?"

He let go of me and chuckled. "The very loose definition of 'cooked,' Charlie."

Ben suddenly came up behind me and touched the small of my back. "By cooked he means he went to the bakery and brought back croissants and muffins," he said.

Papa and I laughed, and I saw the big white box from the local bakery and made a beeline for it. I grinned when I saw my favourite chocolate-filled croissant waiting for me, still warm and buttery from the oven.

"You look like a hungry wolf," Ben said, but I ignored his stupid jokes and started eating it. I should've changed and brushed my bird's nest hair before having breakfast, but I was starved.

Papa rubbed my head as I ate and said, "I'm going to Delia's house for a bit, okay? Charlie, Ben said you and him can spend the day however you want, but come home for dinner and presents with Delia and I."

"Okay, Papa," I mumbled. He shook his head and left, and then Ben sat down next to me. "Do you want any?" I asked after I finished the bite in my mouth. He just stared at me, and I frowned and wiped at my mouth self-consciously. "What?"