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Drabble: Strawberries & Milk


He watched with a child-like fascination as she pulled the tops of the fruit; red juice squishing under her fingernails and staining the tips.

She gathered all the berries into her hand and ran them under the tap to rinse them, the water forming pink pearls on seed-covered surfaces.

She talked about organic farming and eating balanced and healthy snacks while dicing the strawberries with a paring knife.

He watched, bewildered. Each movement was practised and rehearsed, like walking or breathing. Methodically maneuvered wrist actions brought the knife’s edge closer and closer to her fingertips as the strawberries shrunk into juice and wedges.

He licked his lips as she brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked some juice off while her other hand placed the knife down. She lifted the cutting board to a bigger bowl and pushed the strawberries in with the back of her hand, oblivious to Finn’s intrigue.

Finn knew girls could multitask well, but when it was Rachel Berry, it was like dancing. So swift, beautiful and confident.

He wondered what she would say if he helped her lick the rest of the juice off her fingers.

She slid over to the fridge and reached for the milk. He watched her stand on her toes, just a little, to reach the back of the highest shelf.

She was so adorable, it hurt not to touch her.

Closing the fridge with her hip, she brought the milk over to the bowl and added a teaspoon of sugar, stirring it in with one smooth movement.

“There,” She said, presenting the dessert to Finn with a proud smile, “Traditionally, the strawberries are served with cream, but it is very fatty. Even though I don’t drink cream or milk, I will indulge in organically farmed skim milk from time to time.”

She reached her thumb and forefinger into the bowl and gingerly brought a quartered strawberry to her lips. She closed her eyes and breathed in for a moment, savouring it like a last meal.

Finn could not resist any longer; as soon as she placed the berry in her mouth he held her face with both his hands and pulled her lips to his own.

His head spun and he begged entry with his tongue, which she allowed; enthusiastically, he might add. The kiss deepened, and Finn’s brain was screaming for oxygen.

He could not believe how rich she tasted. Strawberries were sweet enough on their own, but combined with milk, sugar and Rachel, the formula was intoxicating.

He finally gave in, braking apart from her reluctantly. The two panted for air, and Rachel marvelled at how she managed to hold on to the bowl during a kiss that almost made her forget her first name.

“So,” Rachel asked once she had air in her lungs again, “Do you like it?” She asked, raising a suggestive brow.

Finn’s forehead was resting against her own, eyes closed while he fought a devilish grin, “Loved it. I can’t wait for more.”