Work Text:
“why do i hate you so much?”
[Black Forest Cookie] & [Wedding Cake Cookie]
Being a wedding planner has its own pros and cons; yes, the pros are that it does give her that sense of fulfillment and motivation seeing her client so happy on their special day, their eyes glimmering with love and their grins wide. The majestic and perfect decorations she extensively put her whole effort on day prior added more romance to the scene. It felt like they were in a movie in slowmotion; well. technically they were. There were videographers roaming the venue like stealthy ninjas, narrowing their eyes the same manner on finding an enemy, setting up their camera in a specific angle and spot to get that perfect shot to showcase to the couple later.
The cons? She didnt work on the venue all alone (she likes to work without any disturbance); someone was helping and it was Black Forest Cookie, the new hire who arrived 1 week ago — 2 weeks before the client's wedding day was due to happen.
She doesn't know the exact reason why she resents her so much. Perhaps it's because something changed in her that she couldn't quite name. The moment when both of them lock eyes as Black Forest went inside the door (it was their first meeting) to meet her workmates, her heart dropped — not because she found out who she was working with but the woman’s gaze was fixated on her and redness flushed onto her cheeks.
Wedding Cake Cookie could describe the feeling as embarrassment, shyness, and awkwardness altogether when Black Forest spoke to her for the first time. The words still echoed in her mind.
Black Forest Cookie strolled in front of her.
Her gaze still the same.
“Hi! How are you? ”
It was a simple greeting. A simple greeting she always offered to her clients, yet why was she hesitating to respond? It was utterly unusual for her. It was as if a lump formed in her throat when she spoke; Black Forest Cookie's unfazed gaze made the experience more unpleasant than she had ever anticipated.
“I’m—I’m good, thank you.”
She plastered a forced smile. Why… did she stutter? She can recall being overly confident to other people in weddings, effortlessly standing out in the crowd. She spoke with such elegance and authority that people believed they were conversing with a royal instead of a “wedding planner.” This had led her to becoming more known in Earthbred, making her business as a wedding planner flourish, unexpectedly. Now she hates her because that girl changed something in her that she desperately wants to understand.
Is it hate? Or is it love? Or maybe love with hate?
Is she…
Is she having feelings for Black Forest Cookie!?
She sank on a cream chair; the softness erased the complicated thoughts circling in her head. This has been her biggest problem, and it caused so many, perhaps, little problems when dealing with her clients, yet she was glad it went well, except when she’d always stare at the nothingness and she realized too late when one of her clients would ask if she's okay, to which she replied she does, but in fact she doesn't.
It's been 1 week and 3 days, and her resentment for her still lingers. What upsets her the most is that she can't even call this “resentment” for her at this point. It’s different from what she viewed it to be.
3 days after their conversation — in which they haven't interacted once after that — she headed to the local library she always went to as a kid with her parents. As she slowly went inside, the aroma of fresh books permeated the air. The subtle dim light from the hanging chandelier with its star-shaped crystals illuminated the whole area, casting shimmering streaks on the walls, corridors, and shelves.
It was identical to before. She smiles.
She strolled to the receptionist at the center desk, who was engrossed in a book, a leg propped on the table, and ignoring her. The woman, with a strict gaze, realizing that there was in fact a person in front of her, placed down her leg and straightened herself, placing the dusty book beside her. Her hands intertwined, she looked straight at Wedding Cake Cookie, waiting stiffly for a response. The slight twitch in her eyebrows that she noticed makes her wanna rolle her eyes out.
She took a deep breath.
“Good morning. I’m looking for a book about…” she hesitated for a moment, imagining the woman's shocked and weirded-out reaction after hearing what book she wants. Is it really… that bad? But, without any help, this change in her might become dangerous, damaging her job and maybe her reputation. She hates it. “About love intertwined with resentment — would you happen to have something like that available here?”
The receptionist clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed by the sudden request. Why is she like that?
She took out a thick book with a lot of text on the cover, realizing it was a manual created by the first owner of the library to find books based on their genres. She flipped a few pages and stopped at a random page and said.
“It is located near the fountain. Simply look for the sign hanging from the ceiling labeled Love — I am confident you will be able to find the book you’re searching for.”
The receptionist closed the book.
“Thank you.” She smiled and strolled.
The library was a place of peace. All of the shelves were pink ivory, a wood so rare and expensive to buy. There are a lot of signs above with countless genres she hadn't learned about. The one that piqued her interest was a tag with the genre “Homosexuality” it looked like a powerful magic spell, however it's not the genre she's looking for currently. But she’ll look at it later.
A glorious white fountain stood in the center, various flowers circling it. The statue was the one that stood out to her the most. The statue depicted a woman with long flowing hair ending in curls, dressed in a long silky dress, holding a lyre.
Remembering why she came here, she looked around and noticed the Love sign behind the statue.
How did she not notice that?
She walked past the statue and entered the large room where the book she wanted, as promised by the receptionist, would be here, waiting. The sign which was far away earlier was above her now, it maintained its pace by the thick chain holding onto it.
Turning her gaze onto the piles of books in the sea of shelves, she created her profound goal: to find that book that explains about her predicament and how to deal and overcome it.
She grins, a tear falling over her cheek dramatically.