Vasili
Amanda and I had been prepping our baking station for a few minutes after Edward and Marco had left. We decided to play music softly from the speakers as she looked for different recipes on her phone.
"What do you think about cake?" She asked showing me a picture of a Victorian sponge cake.
"I'm not a fan," I shrugged.
"Hmm how about muffins?"
"How about macaroons? Eddie loves macaroons," I blushed softly remembering the first time I had met him at the theatre. He would sneakily grab one or two throughout the performance.
"Aren't those difficult to make? I once tried ended up looking like mini pancakes," Amanda frowned.
"Not really. My mum and I use to make them all the time," I smiled fondly. My mum loved baking, and with me being home more often when I was young, I would spend endless hours with her in the kitchen making all kinds of treats. Even after my father had sent me away whenever she would visit, we always baked together. It was our thing.
