Chapter Text
Vax stood in the narrow kitchen of the apartment he shared with his sister, staring at the counter as though it had personally offended him, sleeves already pushed up, as though it owed him money. The kitchen was hardly used for anything ambitious. It was a cramped afterthought of a room, with scuffed cabinets that never quite shut all the way and a stove that liked to protest with sharp clicking noises before igniting. Most nights, they only passed through to throw together something simple and quick, pasta, eggs, whatever could be made with minimal effort and minimal money spent. Vax handled most of the cooking, nothing elaborate, just enough to keep them fed and upright.
Baking? Never. Not once in his life.
But tomorrow was Keyleth’s birthday. They’d all be gathering, their entire friend group, all crammed into her living room to cheer for her being born. And, as always, there would be cake.
Except this year, for once, she wouldn’t be the one making it.
The thought alone sent his pulse skittering. It always did. One glimpse of red hair catching the light, one soft laugh, and everything else blurred. He’d spent two years quietly collecting these moments, tucking them away like treasures he wasn’t sure he deserved.
Every year since they’d met her, she’d baked each of them a cake for their birthdays. Not one generic cake for the group. Not something store-bought and impersonal. Every year she baked for them. Not just the group, separate cakes for him and Vex. His was always dark chocolate laced with chili, bold and a little reckless, like she’d peeked inside his chest and pulled out exactly what lived there. Vex’s was delicate vanilla with berries, bright and graceful. Growing up, after their mother died, birthdays had rarely been celebrated. They were either too broke or too angry to think about the day. After their lives had settled and they met their friends, they welcomed the celebration. Everyone else treated the twins as one unit. It was comforting in its way, but Keyleth saw the difference. She saw him. And she’d gone out of her way to prove it with sugar and care.
He needed to give that back and show her how much he cared.
It had taken a full week of rummaging to find the old dessert book he’d lifted as a kid. Back then, he stole because it seemed like the only way to get by. He couldn’t remember why he had stolen the book; he probably planned to sell it or burn it. Instead, it ended up buried in the hall closet with tangled earbuds, orphaned socks, and promises to “clean this out someday.” When he finally pulled it free, dust swirling like smoke, he beamed with pride. Like he had just found a dragon’s den of gold.
He flipped open the book until he found what he was looking for. Strawberry shortcake. Her favorite. He remembered her saying it once, as she described making the cake with her mother, their hands dusted with powdered sugar that got everywhere. He’d bought the best ingredients he could afford, ripe strawberries that peeked out of the bag, heavy cream, and real vanilla. Everything was laid out like offerings.
“Right,” he muttered, looking at the open book that was propped up on the counter. “How hard can it be?” He tied on a black-and-white patterned apron that Scanlan had gifted them as a joke when they first moved into their apartment. The recipe demanded two round cake tins. He glanced at their one battered metal pot; the same one they used for chili and pasta. “Close enough.” He said with a shrug.
Twenty minutes later, the kitchen looked like it had declared war against him. Flour clung to him, sticking in his hair with streaks of it that lined his face like war paint. Ingredients spilled out, staining the counter and the floor. The “batter” itself was an enigma. It appeared almost solid and yet somehow watery at the same time, defying the laws of physics and basic cooking. Vax was wrestling it in with a spoon, jaw tight, swearing loudly, when Vex walked in.
She froze in the doorway, taking in the sight of her brother fighting and losing to a thing of cake batter. She snorted so hard, she started choking. “What in the devil are you doing?”
“Not the time, Stubby.” He warned through gritted teeth, finally managing to get the majority of the stuff into the pot.
“Is this Keyleth’s birthday gift?” Vex leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, grin wide and wicked. “Because if so, I suggest getting her flowers as a backup.”
“No.” He wiped his hands on the apron, pointlessly, and turned back to the abomination in the pot. “I already got her something. This is something…extra.”
“Extra?”
“Every damn year she bakes cakes for each of us, you and I always get our own,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “Figured it was time someone returned the favor.” He shrugged, trying for casual and failing.
Vex studied him for a long moment. The teasing smirk softened into something gentler, almost fond.
“Right,” she said at last. Then, quieter: “And this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you’re in love with her.”
The pot nearly slipped from his grip. He caught it, slammed the oven door with more force than strictly necessary, and turned to face her, cheeks burning beneath the flour. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, sis.”
“Uh-huh.” Vex stepped closer, plucked a clump of batter from his sleeve, and flicked it into the sink. “Lie all you want, but it’s painfully obvious to all how you feel about her.” She watched him for a moment, saw the way his cheeks darkened under the flour that coated his skin. “The only person who doesn’t seem aware of your feelings is Keyleth.”
He groaned, turning to the countertop to hide his face as he cleaned up his mess. It gave him something to do with his hands while his mind spun. He didn’t want this conversation, not now, not when the oven was ticking, and his heart felt too big for his ribs. But his sister was right. The main reason he was doing this was because he was in love with Keyleth. He wondered, sometimes, if she was pretending. If she knew and played oblivious to spare him. But then he remembered how terrible she was at lying, how she’d once tried to talk them out of a parking ticket and ended up biting her own tongue mid-sentence. And he found her so painfully adorable that he got distracted, unable to cover for them, and ended up with a ticket. He hadn’t minded.
He shook his head, clearing the memory. He always got sidetracked when it came to her.
If he admitted it aloud, Vex would never let it go. But gods, part of him hoped that maybe, just maybe, this cake could be the start of something. Showed her the effort he was putting in, that he cared for her, and that it might make her look at him the way he looked at her. Two years of quiet longing, and he still wasn’t brave enough to say it.
He’d thought she was beautiful the first moment he saw her, ethereal, almost otherworldly, with those wide green eyes and that uncertain smile. Back then, he assumed she would be a quick fling, like all the others he had. Then he’d gotten to know her, the kindness that poured out of her without trying, the awkwardness she wore like armor until she didn’t need it anymore. She’d grown so much stronger and more confident. It was obvious to anyone what a bright future lay ahead for her. He felt privileged just to witness it.
He wanted to be a part of that future. Vax shook his head hard, trying to dislodge the spiral of thoughts. “Leave it alone, Vex,” he muttered, turning back to the recipe book. The page stared up at him as he re-read everything to make sure he hadn’t forgotten a step of an ingredient. He glanced at the clock and cursed. It was almost time to meet the group for their pre-birthday tradition: get gloriously sloppy the night before, wake up hungover the next day, then celebrate with cake and presents all together.
He looked back at the oven. Looked at the temperature listed in the book. Then, with a confidence that could only be described as wildly misplaced, he turned the dial all the way to the highest setting.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Vex asked from behind him. Even she, who considered toast an accomplishment, understood there was a reason recipes specified temperatures.
He scoffed, leaning casually against the sink. “It’s fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He turned to admire his handiwork through the oven window, smug satisfaction settling into his chest.
That satisfaction lasted approximately ten minutes.
In that time, smoke curled from the oven, which seemed like a warning signal. Vax yanked the door open to see flames dancing along the inside. Panic hit like ice water. He grabbed the pot and dumped it in the sink, flames dancing along the burnt edges of the cake and inside the oven. Vex reacted faster than he did, grabbing her phone and calling the fire department while he stood there, frozen for half a second before scrambling uselessly. He flung open the windows. He grabbed a cup of water and hurled it into the oven.
Which only made things worse.
Thankfully, the fire station was just up the road. One of the reasons their rent was so cheap was the constant noise complaints from sirens. The twins had never minded.
Especially not now.
One of the firefighters gave them the all-clear and a few stern words about not cranking ovens to the highest setting and about using the improper baking equipment. Vax wasn’t hearing a word the man said. He sat on the edge of their couch, elbows on his knees, brown eyes hollow as he watched firefighters extinguish the remaining flames with efficient bursts from a fire extinguisher. His cake, if it could still be called that, was a blackened ruin. His gaze remained fixed on the charred remains being scooped into a trash bag and carried out of the apartment.
All that effort. All that hope. Gone in seconds.
Because he’d been an idiot.
He didn’t even realize the firefighters had left until he felt Vex’s hand settle on his shoulder, grounding him. “I called ahead,” she said gently. “Told everyone there was a small incident. We’ll probably be late to the bar.”
He stiffened immediately. “You didn’t tell them—!”
“No, scrawny,” she said, nudging him with her hand. “I did not tell them about your attempted baked goods that nearly turned our home into a crematorium.”
He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“All I said was something came up, and they should go ahead without us.” Her lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Of course, Keyleth was the most concerned. She offered to come over and help. Despite tonight being about her.”
He groaned, not out of irritation, but because his heart physically ached at that. “She would,” he muttered, dropping back against the couch and throwing an arm over his face. He could picture her: green eyes wide with concern, already halfway out the door, more focused on them than her
It was the kindness that made him fall in love.
He remembered the exact night it clicked. A crowded bar, same old scene. Some asshole was hitting on Keyleth, leaning too close, not reading her discomfort. Vax had felt the usual flicker, attraction, sure, but nothing serious. He’d slept around plenty back then, no strings, no problem. Then he saw her shrink. Felt a protective urge surge. He’d sauntered over, playful wink in place, slid an arm around her waist like it was nothing. “Hey, babe. Is this guy bothering you?”
She’d caught on instantly, with a bright smile, leaning into him, playing along perfectly. “Hi honey, uh…yeah…I mean no, all good.” She stuttered, unsure of where to put her hand but settled to just lean against him.
The guy sneered: “Thought a girl like you would have better taste than some scum.”
Vax had tensed, fist itching. But Keyleth stepped forward, arm tightening around his, voice fierce. “Excuse me? You don’t get to talk about him like that. Vax is amazing. He’s kind, and funny and a great person. You wish you could be half the man he is.” She’d laced their hands together to drag him away, still yelling over her shoulder: “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Vax had followed in stunned silence, mind blank except for the echo of her words. No one had ever defended him like that. Not without wanting something in return. Not without manipulation hidden underneath. But she meant every word she said. He could see it in her eyes; there was no deceit.
Back with the group, she’d gushed about the thrill of telling the jerk off. Vax had sat there, beer untouched, chest tight. When she let go of his arm, he felt the absence of her warmth. He wanted to pull her back in and hold her once more. Wanted to pull her and kiss those lips that were gushing about telling that jerk off. Those same lips that made him smile whenever she said his name. To say with pride that he was her boyfriend.
It was all those thoughts cumulating together that he realized he was in love with her. What he had been feeling all this time wasn’t just attraction. He loved her. The rest of that night, he’d barely spoken, nursing his beer while watching her laugh and gesture wildly as she rambled on with the rest of the group. The only person who noticed was Vex. She teased him for the look of longing he wore the whole time.
He’d tried to move on afterward. Tried to sleep around like usual. Tried to forget his feelings that seemed to blare like a siren every time she came near him. He’d managed a few one-night stands, but something had shifted. The hands on him felt wrong, too rough, too unfamiliar. Hair the wrong color. Skin the wrong warmth. Scanlan had once loudly asked if he’d developed a new kink, pointing out that lately every person he’d taken home had been a redhead. Vax hadn’t even realized he was only going after people with a similar build to hers. He’d cursed the short man under his breath, especially with Keyleth sitting right there, blinking up at him with confused green eyes he desperately wanted to drown in.
He’d laughed it off. Claimed there must just be more redheads in town. That night, he’d deliberately made out with a blond man just to prove a point. He’d felt nothing.
The final straw came when a woman with red hair, dark green eyes, and curves for days. Similar enough to ignite a spark in him, but not enough to make him feel anything. He’d tried, gods, he’d tried, but halfway through, he let his mind wander, and he ended up whispering “Keyleth.”He’d fled before the woman could fully process it. After that, he’d stopped trying.
“You’re only torturing yourself,” Vex said quietly, leaning over the back of the couch. Trinket padded over, rested his massive head on Vax’s chest like a furry anchor. “Why not just tell her?”
It wasn’t really a question. Vax had asked himself the same thing a thousand times. Rejection would sting, but he could survive awkwardness. Keyleth was too kind to cut him out. The real terror was worse: pity in her eyes, avoiding spending time alone together, or not wanting to be near him. But that would be fine, he could handle that. What he knew would break him, and the thing he feared most was watching her fall for someone else. Knowing he would have to sit there and smile through it, pretend he was happy for her. As selfish as he was, her happiness was all he really wanted. So long as she was genuinely happy and taken care of, he would be glad. But his heart would break seeing her whisper words of affection to another man.
He thinks of others. The person he’s ever come close to “loving” had been Gilmore. He had been important to him; he still was, but the thought of Shaun with someone else hadn’t felt like the end of the world.
This did.
“Not yet,” he murmured, sitting up slowly. Trinket huffed in sympathy. “I’m not ready.”
Vex didn’t push. She knew.
He looked around the wrecked kitchen; it was covered in flour and the foam from the fire department's extinguisher. It would be so easy to give up. He had the cash; he’d been saving for her gift and the ingredients for months. He could easily get up early the next day and pick up a cake from some fancy bakery in town. But it wouldn’t be the same. Keyleth always went above and beyond. She deserved the same if not more.
“Let the others know I can’t make it.” He rolled his sleeves up again and stepped back into the chaos. He still had flour, eggs, and strawberries, but needed milk, sugar, icing, and this time a real damn cake tin. He grabbed his wallet and headed for the door. “Tell Keyleth I’m sorry and I’ll make it up to her.” Then he was gone, jogging down the street toward the grocery store, determination burning. He refused to let this stop him. He would make that cake, and nothing was going to stop him.
Vex watched him disappear, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips. “You’re already baking her a cake,” she whispered to the empty apartment. “What more could you possibly do?” She’d known long before he had. Watched his eyes light up around Keyleth and dim when she left the room. The way he trailed her like a shadow, he could be hungover and miserable, but if she asked him to join her for a morning run, he’d already be halfway into his sweats. She’d been prickly toward Keyleth at first, out of protective instinct. But the girl didn’t know. Had no clue the power she held over her brother’s heart.
Vex sighed, scratched Trinket behind the ears, and grabbed her bag. “Please be kind to my brother, Keyleth,” she murmured on her way out. She knew her brother better than anyone else. Beneath all his bravado and charm, he was far more fragile than he let anyone see.
Later that night, after stumbling home at four am, Vex had nearly forgotten the mess that was waiting for her. Only when she stepped in, smelt the faint whiff of something burnt and a whole lot of soap did her drunken haze start to clear up. She saw her brother passed out on the couch, his face covered in flour, his clothes stained with icing, and the tips of his fingers were red from cutting up strawberries. He looked downright exhausted but wore a proud gleam even as he slept. She could only assume he had done what he said he would do; he baked a cake. Smiling to herself, she gestured for Trinket to follow her to her room, but stopped when she saw the god-forsaken mess of their kitchen.
“For fuck’s sake,” she ran a hand through her hair and down her face. Hazel eyes looking over the giant pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, the spilled bag of flour mixed with sugar on the counter, broken eggs scrambled all over their floor, and the weirdest of them all. “How the hell did he manage to get icing on the damn ceiling?” She looked back at her brother, exasperated. She was happy he had done what he set out to do, but no way in hell was she cleaning up this mess.
The next day, Vax was a wreck. He spent the morning and most of the afternoon scrubbing, scraping, swearing under his breath as he cleaned up the havoc his baking caused. Vex finally took pity, waving him off the last pile of dishes. With a grateful smile, he bolted into the bathroom to freshen up. It was the coldest shower he’s ever taken; they can’t run the sink at the same time as the shower, it messed with the water pressure, but he didn’t care. He scrubbed himself raw until all you could smell on him was soap. Once he was washed and picked up some clothes, his usual dark jeans, but with a nice-looking black button-up, the twins headed for Keyleth’s. Vex was still hungover, and she made him drive. Normally, he would have taken his motorcycle, but with the cake, he didn’t want to risk ruining it, so he drove the used car the twins shared. They finally arrived at the complex their friend lived in and walked up the few flights to get to her studio apartment.
She opened the door, beaming, tired green eyes lighting up despite the hangover. “Hey, guys! I'm so glad you made it. Come in, everyone's waiting.” The sight of that smile always made Vax’s heart skip a beat.
She stepped aside to let them into her apartment. The place wasn’t that big; it was all one room, except for the bathroom, which was separate. Her bed was off to the side, closest to the window, while a small loveseat, coffee table, and TV took up most of the middle, with her kitchen at the back. It wasn’t the biggest space, especially when every free nook she had was littered with plants, but she had made it home. She turned to Vax, who was juggling taking off his shoes and not dropping the cake container. “Everything okay? You worried me when you didn't show last night.”
“Yeah. All good.” He gave her a gentle smile, heart doing its usual traitor flip at the sight of her.
She reached for the container; he sidestepped and handed her the gift bag instead. “It sucked you couldn't be there,” she said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I missed you.”
He clenched the container in his hands harder than he meant to. By the gods, this woman really didn’t know the effect she had on him. Those words alone made his heart fill with such hope that he could dare to dream that maybe, just maybe, she missed him for other reasons.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Scanlan's voice shattered the moment. He made exaggerated kissy faces from the couch. “Get over here so we can party!”
Vax shot him a glare that promised knives later. Keyleth flushed pink, gesturing for Vax to follow. He set the cake on the counter divider and joined the circle around the coffee table: Grog dominating the couch with Pike and Scanlan on either side, Percy in the desk chair, twins and Keyleth cross-legged on the floor.
They caught him up on the night he missed. Vex had to act as bodyguard for Percy and Keyleth. Apparently, a set of identical twin girls had set their sights on the two and had flirting hard, making both uncomfortable until Vex stepped in to chase them off. Any time they tried approaching Vex would be right there to scare them off. Vax made a mental note to thank his sister. Pike, Scanlan, and Grog entered a drinking contest, and, of course, Grog won, so for an hour the bar let them drink for free. A mistake they learned quickly after Grog nearly drank them dry, and they had been kicked out before the hour was even up. The group mostly then caught up on anything new that had happened, ordered some takeout, and kind of paid attention to whatever movie was on in the background as they all started drinking again.
“Time for dessert!” Pike cheered as Scanlan and Grog went to the kitchen to retrieve the cake. At this, Vax nearly choked on his drink. This was it, the moment of truth. He had told the group he would handle dessert, and that had been his plan.
Scanlan dramatically took off the container lid, everyone looking brightly as they wondered what was inside. “It’s cake time.” Only for them all to stare at the piece of pastry in repugnance. “What the fuck is this?” Scanlan asked what they were all thinking.
The cake was horribly deformed. It was somehow leaning to the right but hadn’t fallen over yet. Strawberries were falling down the side had that too much icing with the side that had very little was peeking out, showing the cake part and what looked like an uncooked egg sticking out. In the middle was a poor attempt at writing “Happy Birthday Keyleth” in icing, but instead it looked like more of a curse.
Vax felt his cheeks darken. “It’s a cake, what the fuck else would it be?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Scanlan shook his head, trying to look over the pastry, if one could even call it that.
Sensing tension rise, Keyleth started waving her hands to try to settle things. “Come on guys, don’t you know the saying don’t judge a book by its cover. I bet it tastes delicious.” She wasn’t going to let on that the sight of it was already making her stomach hurt.
Vax had to turn his head to hide his smile. Of course she would see the beauty in it. Too bad, not everybody in their group had the same outlook.
“Not sure where you got this from, but you should demand your money back, because they totally screwed you over,” Scanlan said, nodding in agreement with the others, minus Keyleth and Vex. Dark brown eyes began to twitch as he took a sip of his beer, mumbling something as he drank.
“What was that?” Pike knew he said something, but didn’t know what.
“I…ade…it,” he mumbled again, this time a bit higher.
“You ate it?” Percy asked, looking over the cake to check for any signs of bite marks. His friend was either rather brave or incredibly stupid to eat something like this.
Vax growled, slamming his drink down on the coffee table. “I said I fucking made it!” he yelled, annoyance skyrocketing. They all acted like he created some monstrosity. He knew the thing didn’t look nearly as professional as the one the redhead of their group made, but he at least tried.
“You made this?” green eyes blinking up at him, looking awestruck. “For me?” And just like that, every negative emotion he had been feeling went away.
He nodded, rubbing the back of his head. “Yes, I did.” He cleared his throat, trying to settle his feelings. She didn’t deserve his anger. “You always go out of your way to make everyone a cake on their birthday. I thought it was only fair you receive the same treatment.” Green eyes began to water as her bottom lip started to quiver. He feared he had done something to upset. “Kiki! What’s wrong?” he was worried he got the cake flavor wrong or had somehow done something to hurt her feelings. Imagine his surprise and great pleasure when she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Thank you!” she wept, burying her face in his neck to pull herself closer. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before, and it means a lot.” She shyly looked up, still holding tight to him as she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
Vax’s whole body froze, and his cheeks turned a dark shade of red he knew he couldn’t pretend was the heat. He was blushing, cheeks burning red as his lips twitched into an upward angle. He probably looked like such a fool, but he didn’t care. Keyleth had kissed him. Those soft lips he had been dreaming about kissed him. He no longer had to wonder what they would feel like because he got to experience it first-hand. As much as he wanted to continue with the hug, he was relieved when she finally pulled away, lest she feel how fast his heart was beating.
“Let’s dig in!” Keyleth cheered, and the others followed. Giving apologies for making fun of his creation, not that he could fault them. He would have done the same. The birthday girl made a wish, blew out her candles, cut the cake, and made sure to take a big piece for herself before giving a plate to their friends.
“Sorry,” Percy shook his hand to deny the offering. “But I’m terribly allergic to strawberries, so I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.” Vax glared at this seemingly new allergy but said nothing.
“To Keyleth,” they all raised their plates while Percy raised his glass of wine. “Happy Birthday!” they all cheered once more before taking a bite of cake.
Only for them all to nearly gag.
“Oh wow…that’s,” Pike gagged as she spat the piece into her napkin. “That’s a new flavor.” She looked horribly uncomfortable.
Grog swallowed his after only a bite, taking a moment to think before setting his plate back down. “Nope. Do not like.” They had never seen him turn down food before. Scanlan retched dramatically, fishing a long strand of dark hair from his mouth. “Dude, what the fuck!” he gagged again, shuddering. “Don’t you know the first rule of baking is you always tie your hair back?” Even he knew that.
Vex hadn’t even taken a bite yet; the fork was halfway to her lips when everyone started gagging, so she set her plate back down. “You know what, I’m not all that hungry.” She refused to meet her brother’s gaze. “Maybe next time.” She said even though she was vowing never to let her brother bake another thing ever again, between the two of them, he was the better cook. He could whip up a meal with what little they had. How in the nine circles of hell did he not know how to bake?
Vax wanted to be mad. Wanted to yell and call them all dramatic, but as he sat there, a piece in his mouth and already making his gag reflex start to work, he spat it out on his plate. He groaned, “Shit,” he felt so ashamed. He wanted to do this one thing for Keyleth. To show she was as important to the group as she saw all of them. That she was important to him. Instead for her birthday he serves her toxic waste. He felt totally useless right about now. Realizing that said girl had been unusually quiet, he turned his head to look and saw she was sitting there with her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. Tears in her eyes once more, only they didn’t look like happy tears this time. “Keyleth, you don’t have to eat it. I know it’s not very good.”
She shook her head, “No, no…it’s,” she coughed a little before making herself swallow down the piece that was in her mouth, and shoved another back inside. Everyone cringed when they heard a crunching noise. “It’s delicious,” she tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.
When she was about to take another bite, he stopped her by taking the fork and plate out of her hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to eat it.” He knows it was terrible, but he appreciated her trying. “I’m sorry for ruining your birthday.” She wasn’t the only one with self-doubts. He’d spent so much of his life believing he wasn’t good for much. A kid who ran with the wrong crowd. A boy who learned too young that stealing was easier than asking. Someone who leaned on his sister so hard it became a kind of codependency he never named out loud. If his only purpose in life was keeping the people he loved safe and happy, that had felt like enough. And yet he couldn’t do the simple thing of baking a cake.
A soft hand grabbing him shocked him. Brown eyes met warm green ones. “You didn’t ruin anything,” she said, voice soft in a way that made his throat tighten. She squeezed his fingers, anchoring him. “Okay, yes, your cake was…” She searched for the kindest words she could find. “…not the best.” Scoffs erupted around them, and her mouth twitched despite herself. “But that doesn’t matter,” she added firmly, gaze locked on him like the rest of the room had disappeared. “You still made it. You still tried. You went out of your way for me. That’s what's important.”
Vax felt something inside him tilt, something tender and frightening. He didn’t think it was possible to fall harder, but the way she looked at him made it effortless. “Next year, I promise to bring something edible.” He joked, but he was serious. So long as she allowed him to be by her side, he would do whatever he could to make her smile. If that meant baking a hundred cakes, he would do so.
She giggled, “How about a baking lesson before you do that?” They all laughed at that. “Deal.” He would say no to spending some time with her. For a heartbeat, the noise faded. Just them. He let himself hope that the tenderness in her gaze meant something more. That the way her eyes flicked to his lips wasn’t accidental. That maybe, just maybe, she wanted to close the distance as badly as he did.
Then her face went from soft pink to sickly green. “Oh no,” her throat started to bob as she tried to keep something down. “Bathroom!” she cried, covering her mouth with her hands as she sprinted to her toilet to throw up.
Vax paled at the sight, “Oh shit, Kiki.” He chased after her, banging on the door as he yelled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…!” What was he supposed to say? That he hadn’t meant to make a cake so bad that it made the woman he loved throw up. “Pike, what do we do?” She was the medical expert; surely, she could help.
Pike didn’t even give it a second thought. “Thrown out that damn cake before anyone has to go to the hospital.” She pointed at the baked good, her shoulders sagging when she saw Grog trying to take another bite. “Seriously, big guy.” She took it from him before they had another person violently ill. And she meant violent. They had all heard the girl throw up before; she was a lightweight who loved to drink but never knew her limit, so they had more than once seen her throw up on the walk home or even at the bar. But never to this level. Pike was already making a mental list of what to prescribe to help her stomach.
“I know it’s crap, but I’m hungry.” Grog whined, watching as his best friend threw out the cake. Vax wasn’t listening. He was too busy banging on the locked door, begging for forgiveness, and saying that he would hold her hair for her, while also making a mental promise that next year on her birthday, he wouldn’t make her sick.