"A broo-nee?"

"Brownie."

"A Brownie?"

"Yeah!" Aiden flopped onto the cushions beside her.

"What’s a Brownie?" The elf tilted her head, her mismatched colored eyes staring at him in confusion.

"It’s a cake. Like uhh… the Bark Fruit Muffins you have!"

"Uh huh."

"Except, it’s lot denser. When mom used to bake them, the whole house would bathe into the warm aroma."

"That sounds chewy… you humans have a weird taste.”

Brigid hugged her cushion, her blonde hair spilling behind her shoulder like flower bundles down a wisteria tree.

"No! It’s— it’s not what you think it’s like!" He defended his beloved Confectionery. "It’s all chocolaty-brown, sweet and fudgy and mmmhmm!"

He fell back, savoring the taste of the imaginary goodness.

From the corner of his eye, Brigid swallowed. Perhaps wondering if she could one day have a taste of them.

But the crack in the mask was immediately covered.

She straightened up. The same unbothered expression masked her curiosity.

"Fudgy?” Brigid developed an eye twitch. "Is that a swamp? That’s just gross.”

Aiden choked a gasp. He hand flew to his chest.

"You did not just call it a swamp."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic!" She threw the pillow at him.

"Pfft— alright, alright!" He laughed, "It’s not a swamp… it’s sorta like… the texture of it— again, it’s not gross. It’s delicious."

Brigid straightened her feet and touched them on the ground. Her nightgown whispered down her ankles.

"Whatever," she got up, "I still think it’s gross."

"Fine. Your loss."