Set in the WiP WRE verse. 445 words. No warnings apply.
“They’re awful,” El said, turning her back on the cookies, almost tearful.
Romaine had never seen perfectionist El before. But then last Christmas, when they were both working at the helpline, she’d booked leave and gone on holiday with her family. He’d never witnessed the intensity of her yuletide celebrations firsthand.
“They don’t look that bad,” Romaine said. Continue reading Fic: Cookies