eggos | (no subject)

There are newspapers spread out over the Will’s table, protecting the surface from the impending carnage above. There are carving tools — funny spoons with sharp, serrated edges, and little knives with different shapes on them, as well as the kitchen knives they’re allowed to use to open the pumpkins. They’d bought ones specific for carving, alongside the one Will had bought because he’d liked it, and El had bought some smaller ones to paint, as well, in case carving had ended up being something neither of them enjoyed.

All of their supplies were in easy reach, and Eleven grimaces in disgust as she uses one of the funny spoons to scoop out the innards, seeds and slimy string flopping grossly onto the newspaper beside her pumpkin.

“Do people like this part?” she asks, hoping the answer is ‘no.’

El is glad they’re doing this, even if this part is gross. It’s been a strange month — a strange few months, if she’s honest — and she wants to feel settled and normal as often as she can manage it. Being with Will like this, it helps. And she hopes it helps him, too.

Threaded | Flat

His own nose wrinkling with disgust, Will said, "I don't know. Probably someone does."

People were weird, sometimes in ways that it was better not to think about.

Slapping another wet glob of innards onto the table, Will laughed. "The carving part is more fun," he promised, his arm starting to ache from digging deeper into the pumpkin, trying to even out the insides.