Can't Resist Homemade Cookies!
Sure, I can't resist homemade cookies! After the baking club was officially approved, Theo—the guy who appointed himself president—started running wild like a horse with the reins off. Over the past week or so, we'd had a couple chances for club members to gather.
But calling it club activities was a stretch; Theo just baked bread and cookies on his own while the rest of us watched from the sidelines, oohing and aahing. Of course, we devoured the results afterward—they were delicious. The guy's got real talent. No wonder he started the baking club.
Anyway...
"Hey, why's it just the two of us today?"
"Huh? 'Cause everyone else is super busy."
"That's not what I... whatever, forget it."
Why was I stuck alone in the clubroom with this guy after classes? I'd figured the other members were ghost members at best, but all three of them skipping entirely? That's too much. Fine, Tiabel had her swimming lesson, so I get that...
"Since it's just us, I'll teach you how to make cookies today—as a special treat!"
"Not interested."
I was debating whether to bail right then when he made his pointless pitch. I shot it down flat.
"But it'd definitely come in handy someday! Don't you think Tiabel Roze Tail would love some you made yourself?"
Stubborn as ever in the weirdest ways, he dragged her name into it and stared at me with sparkling eyes.
And damn if I didn't fall for that nonsense. Tiabel does love cookies. I'd never even considered it before, but picturing her grinning ear-to-ear made it seem like a decent idea. Plus, I'd already come all the way to the clubroom—ditching him solo felt kinda rude. Might as well treat it like a one-on-one lesson.
"Fine, whatever. Can't hurt."
"Right?!"
His beaming eyes were a bit much, so I averted mine and looked for something to do.
"In that case, let's start with the basics. First up: mixing butter and sugar."
"Butter and sugar?"
He'd already prepped everything, thrusting a big bowl of the stuff my way.
"Yep. Mix it good till it turns creamy."
"Oh ho."
Pretty systematic. Figures, club president and all. And if it's just mixing, it's basically manual labor—no big deal for me.
Scrape. Scrape.
Oh, this is kinda fun. At first, the sugar doesn't blend and you get that gritty sound, but it gradually fuses with the butter, thickening up. Watching the transformation is satisfying. Who knew I had baking blood in me?
"So that's how cookies are made."
"What'd you think, Aren? That they just pop out of flour with fire magic?"
"Pretty much."
"...Baking isn't alchemy, Aren."
Sue me. If you've never tried, you wouldn't know. What a picky jerk. Maybe I should bail now after all.
"Anyway, I'll show you the first time, then you try solo next. Tiabel would love that even more."
"Sure, why not."
Felt weird, like prepping White Day cookies for a girlfriend I never asked for. But he wasn't wrong, so whatever.
This is easier than it looks...
"Ah, Aren! Ease up—you're flinging cream everywhere!"
"Huh?"
...Not quite. Too bad. Guess it'll take a while to go solo.
Splash!
"Pha!"
Tiabel broke the surface, gasping for air.
"Good, you're getting the hang of it solo now. That's passable. Pack up and head out."
"Yes, thank you, Professor."
The female professor who'd been watching jotted something on her paper and turned away. Tiabel bowed politely.
Phew, finally over.
While others stayed late at the library cramming, here she was, stuck because she couldn't swim. Never properly been to the beach as a kid, and now it bit her at the academy. Who knew electives included riding and swimming?
But I'm decent now. A week's hard practice paid off—from barely floating on day one to this. Pride swelled as she climbed out, perching on the pool's edge to catch her breath.
Aren's probably back at the dorm by now?
Sunset tinged the sky, stirring regret. Normally, she'd be snuggling with him in the clubroom.
Miss him.
She wanted to chase him to the dorms, but guys' dorms were strictly off-limits. Tomorrow it is, then. As she rose—
"Good work, miss."
"Eek?!"
A man's voice from behind startled her. She whipped around to see a familiar face offering a towel, waving cheerily.
Her face bloomed like a flower.
"Aren! What brings you here?"
"Thought you might still be here, so I checked. Pass the test okay?"
He'd heard her whining about swimming lately, his face tinged with worry.
Tiabel turned her head slightly, flashing a V-sign—her go-to brag pose.
"Heh, obviously. Told you I'd pass today."
"Shouldn't have asked. My lady always keeps her word."
"Ehem. You know it."
His flattery lifted her spirits. She stood, wiping off the water to walk back with him. Swimsuit under gym clothes? No issue.
"...Huh? Aren, what's wrong?"
He wasn't budging, rooted there. Something up? He averted his eyes, then—
Plop.
"Wha—? Aren, why give me your jacket...? My clothes'll get wet!"
He draped his own jacket over her shoulders. Worried she'd catch a chill fresh from the pool? But it'd soak his instead.
"Just cover up. Changing room's close—wear it till then."
"I'm fine..."
"I'm not."
"You're so weird sometimes."
He'd come back drenched in sweat from training without a care, but a girl in a swimsuit? Overreaction. Years together, and she still couldn't get used to it.
But she didn't hate it.
"Hee, thanks. Borrow it to the changing room, then. What's that bag?"
Grateful, she pointed at the small bag in his hand.
"This? Cookies. Figured you'd crash after swimming—made 'em myself."
"Whoa, cookies? For me?"
Aren, who'd seemed bored at club meets, baked for her? Nothing beat an unexpected gift. Energy surged through her weary body.
She unwrapped it eagerly. Neat rows of chocolate chip cookies.
How'd he know she was obsessed? Her smile widened.
"Can I try one?"
"Go ahead."
"Hee hee, thanks—nom!"
Crunch. Crunch.
Perfect texture—not too hard, not too soft. Sweet chocolate chips harmonized with his handmade dough, making her gums tingle...
"...?!"
...Or not. What is this taste? Sweet chocolate at first, then a briny ocean wave crashed in.
Sugar-salt mix-up? He'd said he tasted it... Or old brothel habits—this counts as tasty? Plausible. Back at the mansion, he'd scarfed a salty chef mishap like it was gourmet.
Whatever, it was brutally salty—impossible to swallow.
"How is it, miss? Good, right?"
"Uh, well..."
Grateful for the effort, but truth time. As she pried her lips apart—
Band-aids?
His hands were plastered with them. Not there earlier... Baking accident? Makes sense—he'd never cooked before.
"Y-Yeah! Super tasty. Totally my flavor!"
"Knew it!"
"Totally! So good, I can't stop!"
Seeing that, she couldn't crush him. Forcing a grin, she shoved in another.
Grind. Her cheeks twitched with each chew. But mind over matter.
If it makes Aren smile, this is nothing!
"No more?"
"N-No! Too good—saving the rest for the dorm."
She toughed out the ambush, stashing them preciously in her bag. Vowing to finish every last one—no waste.
See? I don't bake, but I learn fast. Back at the dorm, I couldn't stop grinning over her reaction. Ate 'em right up. Gotta make more next time.
"Aren, how'd Tiabel Roze Tail like 'em?"
Theo, my one-day mentor, asked from his bed-roll.
I flashed a thumbs-up and grinned. He sighed in relief, beaming back.
"Glad it worked. Been sticking band-aids all over your hands—what happened?"
"Azela's class this afternoon kicked my ass. Blisters popped everywhere."
"Ah."
I'll re-bandage after a shower.