Flours For You | ✓

03 | stars in our eyes

DEDICATED TO PRESLEY
(for like the 10000th time bc I kept deleting this chapter and I'm sorry for being annoying. doesn't mean your dedication loses its value though !!!)

saying that you've inspired me to write would be the biggest understatement of the year. your stories seem like the types of reads that would be considered classics even when after we're both minimized to dust (wow I'm gettin real deep). I honestly love you so much because not only are you an amazing writer, you have the sweetest soul. you're always replying to everyone and you take the time to get to know your readers. even though we haven't talked all that much yet, I'd like to still thank you for being a friend – my friend. (:

ATTENTION:

for those who have read this chapter before, please read it again! I changed a lot of it as I wanted to take a different approach. this is why this chapter in particular has been so delayed. I'm so sorry, but please enjoy.

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THE STARS GLARED angrily at me. Almost as if they were yelling at me to do something, anything to disrupt the silence that had settled itself between East and I ever since we had sat on the uncomfortable wooden bench situated in front of the now dead fountain.

The Grove was pretty much empty, save for the few huge crowds that would stumble out of the still opened restaurants to say their farewells, before disappearing into the black sheet of the night, leaving us to wallow in our thoughts. It was probably more so my thoughts though because being involved in the baking industry for all my life had made me fall in love with the sounds of clinking pans and trays, while absolutely detesting any quiet moment that would come after the fact. After all, no noises meant no customers, and no customers meant no money to stash in my pockets.

East, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying it if his sprawled out arms and his tipped back head that gave him a better view of the stars were any indication. A smile threatened to creep upon my chapped lips, but before it could, East turned his head to look at me. He tilted his head and stared at me for a good five seconds, just like he had when we first met a few hours ago.

I briskly looked away and up at the sky. "What are you still doing here?" I casually asked.

I heard the sound of a coat's material crumbling, East's coat probably, as he leaned back into his seat, causing an inanimate object symphony as the bench's creaks joined in on the coat's solo. "I was buying a Christmas gift for somebody," he answered, "you?"

My internal being laughed at how ridiculous my reason sounded but my conscious was winning, fighting to embarrass me. "I threw some money at a douche's face." I scoffed, my anger still bubbling on the surface.

"Oh no," East began, making me shift my attention to him with a raised eyebrow. "Those two things should never go together, little one." He shook his pointer finger with a disapproving look.