Conflict 13: Plot

                                    

                                          
            
                          
You needed tools, and if befriending your captors was what needed to be done, then so be it.
                          
   Waking up extra early this morning, you looked for a camera and offered to help Oliver cook breakfast. Giddy as ever, he opened the door, reminding you to take your bath first. He made you wear an off-shoulder sunflower-printed knee-length white dress.
                          
   Now you were flipping the pancakes while Oliver attended to the scones and tea. He was humming again.
                          
   You cleared my throat "You like that song?"
                          
   "Beg your pardon?"
                          
   "London Bridge is Falling Down. You keep playing it in the bathroom and you tend to hum its tune a lot"
                          
   He looked up then smiled at you. "I guess I do" He removed his mittens "I find it comforting. Keeps me calm and it's quite catchy"
                          
   "I guess it is" You returned to the pancakes just when James and Jason came in.
                          
  Jason strode towards and stopped behind you, "That smells delicious. What 'cha making, doll?" You could feel his breath on your bare shoulder as he looked over to the stove.
                          
   You gulped, feeling self-conscious at his close proximity. "Pancakes" You answered softly. 
                          
   "They're not fluffy enough" James stood next to you.
                          
   "That's cause I didn't put that much flour" You replied.
                          
   "You're doing it wrong"
                          
   "Excuse me?"
                          
   "You're not supposed to flip it like that you'll ruin—great, you've ruined it" He grumbled and you felt a little insulted. Like you didn't already know that you were no iron chef, but what kind of person points that out?
                          
   Jason chuckled, tickling your nape then casually laid a gloved hand on your upper arm "Let her do her thing, James. You're just going to drown it all in syrup anyway"
                          
   James glared at his brother than held out his hand, "Give me the spatula" He demanded.
                          
   Reluctantly, you passed it to him. He grumbled at you to step aside and you did so while not-so-subtly removing Jason's hold on me.
                          
   "These are so small, what were you thinking?" He sounded angry.
                          
   You stiffened, a little scared "It saves space and..."
                          
   "And?"
                          
   "And we were going to put fillings between pieces" Oliver answered "Anyway, since James is cooking, poppet, can you start working on them?"
                          
   You nodded. Oliver held out the knife, blade first. That was definitely a safety violation. Nonetheless, you took it and quietly walked to the kitchen island where he already prepared the cutting board and the bowl of "fillings" composed of strawberries, blueberries, and bananas.
                          
   You took three strawberries and cut off their tops.
                          
   Meanwhile, Jason seemed to have found it necessary to watch over you, or just be a pain in the ass. "You know strawberries aren't really berries" He leaned on the table, watching you chop the fruits.
                          
   "I know" You peeled a banana and held it up "But this is"
                          
   "Do you know why?" His eyes glittered.
                          
   "Do I have to answer?"
                          
   "Not really"
                          
   "Okay then" You began to cut the banana, but couldn't un-feel his gaze on you. Sighing, you stopped and looked up at him "It's because 'berry' is the botanical term for any indehiscent fruit born from a single ovary with its wall entirely fleshy. The strawberry is nothing like that"