Page 67 of Eight Weeks
My little Icicle might be good with stunts and all, but faster? I highly doubt it. She never was.
???
I was right.She’s not faster than me on the ice… and as it seems, a pretty sore loser. She’s scowling, her arms crossed over her chest to show her madness. And yet, I can’t help but find it cute.
Now I remember why I used to let her win all the time when we were younger, despite being a sore loser myself. Alright, and because of that stupid smile that sends electric shocks through my body whenever I see it.
We left the ice five minutes ago, and she’s still grumpy, grunting answers if she even does, rolling her eyes and sighing all the time. Either she’s the worst loser alive, or my Icicle is a little hungry.
When we were younger, Sofia used to getreallymoody whenever she was hungry. She would act like a total asshole, snap at people, and give the shortest answers known to humankind. Until she finally got food, and just like that, her mood was turned around again.
“How about we go drink someGlühwein, sit inside and just spend some time catching up? Kind of like letting a get-together sound itself out before we all head home?” Emma suggests. The other girls agree almost to instantly.
Is this what they do here? Go out and then let the evening “sound itself out”? If so, it doesn’t make sense. Just leave whenever you want to, honestly.
Either way, I still hate wine, and as far as I’m concerned,Glühweinis wine, heated and with spices and stuff. But wine.
Anyway, Sofia agrees with Emma, and I couldn’t possibly speak against it now, could I? I’m already outnumbered, being the only man with four women. So what I do instead only makes sense to me. “Sure, but can I borrow Sofia for just a minute? I need her to be my translator for something.”
The girls laugh, all except Sofia, of course. My little Icicle still hasn’t defrosted.
“Sure, you go do your thing.” Pia waves us off. “We’ll order for you then, okay? Don’t be too long!”
As we part ways with Sofia’s friends, I bring my hand to the small of Sofia’s back, guiding her toward wherever we will find food. It shouldn’t be too difficult as this whole entire goddamn Christmas market is made of food stalls, Christmas lights, a good amount of gaming stalls, carousels, and decorations.
I told myself I’d buy Sofia whatever she wanted to eat, but she’s a little stubborn, so when I ask her what she wanted, she responds with, “I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are, Icicle.”
She rolls her eyes, letting out a disagreeing gruff. “Am not.”
“Okay.” We stop in front of a food stall that seems to be only selling chocolate covered fruits. It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll do for now. I turn to Sofia with a smile. “Could you ordermesomething then? I still don’t speak German.”
Earning myself yet another eyeroll, she obliges. “What do you want?”
“Anything you like.” Mainly because I’m certain that I won’t get a single bite from that thing. The second it’s bought, she’ll look at me with those puppy dog eyes, asking for just a small taste to check if it’s good, and before I know, she’ll have it eaten up.
But that’s okay, I’m not that much of a fan of chocolate covered fruits anyway.
Sofia orders a chocolate covered banana, and it’s suddenly evenbetterthat I won’t have to eat it because bananas are nothing but disgusting. They have a way too dominant taste. Put it in a smoothie, just the tiniest piece of it, and you now have a banana smoothie, despite the million other fruits you threw in there.
I hand her my wallet at the same time as she hands me the banana on a stick. She pays for it, then walks somewhere next to the stall with me.
The second we stand, I hold the banana to Sofia’s mouth, waiting until she takes a bite. And she does, without questioning me. Perhaps she didn’t think about it twice, but I’m sure she knows what I’m up to.
If there is one person in this world thatalwaysknew what I thought, and why I did certain things, it is Sofia. Even now I’m sure she had her assumptions the second I said she shall choose whatevershewanted.
“You’re mean, you know?” she says right after she swallows, yet she takes another bite.
“Just taking care of you, my Icicle.”
Sofia smiles softly, even more so when I bring my free hand underneath the banana to stop the chocolate from crumbling all over the floor.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”
I shake my head. “I know, but you get all grumpy when you’re hungry.”
It takes her a little while to eat that nasty thing, but I’d rather spend ten minutes watching Sofia eat a banana than sit in some booth and have to smell this heated wine for an hour.
