The scent of vanilla seemed to be cartoonishly attracting me to the oven, since, without even noticing, I was already in front of it, my face close to it as I watched the cake inside get finished. There was some vague silence.

**Beep*

Was the sound the alarm clock I prepared a while ago started to repeat restlessly, marking that 30 minutes have passed by. Pressing its off button, I tossed it away carelessly to then check on the oven. Opening it slowly, I then put on two oven mitts to take the dessert out.

Placing it on the countertops, I inverted it onto a plate since I didn't have a wire rack, then left it for 10 minutes. Enough time for me to go and prepare the frosting. A series of actions that were carried out by an honest excitement, not for the cake, but for the reaction I was going to get.

When all was done, I leaned over, decorated with the frosting, some strawberries to add a more friendly touch, and it was done. After looking at it for some seconds, I sliced two pieces, one for me and one for her, and walked towards the dining room, leaving a trace of the sweet smell of vanilla and a subtle edge of the scent of blood.

As I made my way towards the dining room, a.k.a. her temporary forced abode. It might have been a crime, but what's more romantic than remembering someone's birthday and celebrating it with them? Nothing, probably. If there was, I didn't want to know.

The journey wasn't that long given the fact that the rooms were only separated by a hall, so I just slipped in without even noticing. In contrast, what my mind first noticed was the sight of her, so romantically tied to her chair. Wasn't I just the sweetest? Totally not.

"Hey, how's the birthday girl? One year older, huh? Soon enough you'll be buried down." I said kindly, smiling to her as a close friend would do as I placed one of the plates in front of her on the table. Right, we were just friends for now. But that didn't mean the status couldn't change, I assumed.

Walking to my side of the table, which was next to her, I placed my plate down, and then took seat. Since I had good manners, I waited for her to start eating. That way, she would feel more important, just as I saw in that movie. Was I right or was I right, ladies?

Seeing no action from her part, I let out a disappointed sigh. Ahh, maybe it was too much to expect her to eat while tied. Dammit, was it so hard to ask to see someone eating with only her mouth like a dog? Leaning closer on the table, I ripped the tape from her mouth gently. Right, so apparently, people need their mouths to eat. Like, lol.

Taking a piece of the cake with my hands, since I thought people that ate cakes with forks were pretentious, I dragged it close to her mouth. Well, I doubted she would have eaten by her own choice, so I used my other hand to force her mouth open. As I tried to place the piece in her mouth, I added, "C'mon, let's just eat the cake so we can do other fun stuff. The birthday song is gross, so we are not singing it."