mashed potatoes

I honestly don’t know how they got started. I don’t know how they managed to get it everywhere, there are some spots I’ll have to get Cyrille to clean because I’m not even sure if we have any step-stool we can use. We should, I’ll have to put it on our list of things to buy.

There are mashed potatoes in place there shouldn’t be. There are peas in place there shouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure there’s sauce where there shouldn’t be. We were supposed to be eating hot chickens and someone, it seems, decided that they didn’t want any. I haven’t asked to know why they had this food fight, I suppose it might have been because they thought it would be fun. I’m pretty tempted to leave the cleaning up to them but I know I won’t be able to. Too much of a softy, me.

“So can you guys tell me why there’s food everywhere but on the plates and what we’re supposed to be eating for dinner?” It honestly is getting late, it’s dark out but that’s what happens at this time of the year and I don’t think we have anything in the fridge that’s thawed enough to cook. We might just have to go for takeout and I don’t much care for the idea, I suppose I don’t really have a choice.

Cyrille looks at the mess, some peas and sauce in his hair, Agni looks at the floor, more than likely at more of the stuff and I sigh. I run my fingers through my hair and shake my head. “All right, somehow this food fight just happened out of nowhere and food has flung itself everywhere because it could. How about you two get started on cleaning up while I look through the phone book to order us something to eat?”

I’m starving, it does not make me pleasant to deal with though I know I’m still being pretty civil about it. They exchange look, a sheepish smile on each of their faces and I roll my eyes with a sigh.

“There’s some on top of the fridge, Cyrille, you can have fun with that one. We don’t have a step-stool and you’re the only one tall enough to get to it.” It’s not really at the very top of the fridge—that I can see, at least—but more on the top of the door and I assume that if there’s some there, there will be some on top of the fridge. He mumbles an apology, cheeks flaming and I leave them to begin their cleaning while I look for the phonebook. I could look online but the phonebook is closer and I feel as though I might be able to keep an ear on them this way.

They shuffle a bit but then I hear the sounds of cupboards being opened and closed, more than likely bringing out the cleaning necessities. I walked in on them just sort of staring at it all and I’m pretty sure it didn’t happen all by itself but I don’t know who started it and they probably won’t even tell.

By the time the food is delivered, I even stepped outside, bundled up, to wait for the guy since I wasn’t sure about letting him into the building itself, the kitchen is partly cleaned. The worst of it is gone, there are no obvious signs of a food fight though the smell is still present and I can still see signs of greasy left over spots in places.

I set the food down, glad I’d picked up cold food to eat though they would deserve to eat their own food cold even if it had been hot to begin with and I went to help them with the last of the cleaning.

Half an hour later, the kitchen was as spotless as it would get, the all around scents and smells were decent and I was starving. Agni’s stomach was grumbling loudly, as was the stomach’s owner. Cyrille was quiet, looking uncertain, as if he blamed himself for the whole thing and was ready to be punished for it.

We settle at the table and I hand out the boxes with a sigh. “I’m not even going to ask again, I honestly don’t want to know. I’m not blaming either one of you. I’m just glad the kitchen is cleaned. Now, if you guys didn’t want hot chicken you could have said so instead of flinging it around, though.”

Agni snorts lightly but Cyrille manages the hint of a smile. I sigh and rub my eyes, turning to my food. I’ve discovered a certain love for sushi thanks to Eoghan. I feel as though these two don’t deserve this kind of special meal after the fight but I mostly told myself that I was going to eat comfort food after being denied a bit too long for something to eat.

We eat in quiet though twice a foot brushes over my leg. I ignore it, not sure where it might be coming from since we’re all bare-footed now but taking into consideration the side where the brushing occurs, I have a fairly good idea. We don’t make much eye-contact, too busy not quite stuffing our faces but almost. It is later than usual for any of us, we normally eat our meal at an earlier hour or we at least have a small snack when we’re preparing a later meal.

As I’m closing my empty box, the foot brushes my leg again and I look up. Agni is licking his fingers clean but Cyrille is staring at his closed box. I gather all the empty boxes, throwing them out before I head into my room. I assume Cyrille might be wanting to talk to me and he knows he can do that whenever he wants.

I hear the chairs scrape gently against the ground as one of them gets up, then the other. I assume Agni might head off into his room or the shower at this point, he was as filthy as Cyrille had been. I know Cyrille had mostly wiped his hair clean before the clean up. At least he doesn’t have to wait for the bathroom use since the master bedroom has its own.

He knocks at my doorframe before stepping inside with a sigh. “I’m sorry about the food fight, Mira.”

I turn to him, my head shaken lightly. “It happened, I think I was mostly angry about the loss of the food than the mess you two made, don’t worry about it.”

“But I do. I’ve just-” He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. I step closer to him, wiping one last bit of mashed potato from the top of his head. He blushes and ducks his head.

“Cyrille, don’t worry about it. I don’t really care about it. I was just starving and it seemed as though it might take forever to get some food. I wasn’t feeling so great, that’s all. How about you go and take a shower? Your hair looks shiny for how much grease there’s still in there. Or are you here to ask me to help you wash up?” My offer is as genuine as it is a tease, it really just depends on him. He blushes deeply, his eyes going wide and I laugh gently.

“I’m teasing, Cyrille. Though I’m so used to helping Agni wash up that I wouldn’t have any issues with helping you. I figure you might not really want that though, privacy and all but really, go on and get washed up, you smell like peas and gravy, it doesn’t really fit you.”

He sticks his tongue out but I can see in his eyes that he looks relieved, probably that I don’t hold any of the food fight in a grudge. It’d be a silly sort of thing to do. It happened, there’s no turning time.

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