Josh's hands sweat, unable to meet Emma's gaze. She scoffs in disbelief at the request as they sit across from each other at the same table they had yesterday afternoon. Luckily, Brittany wasn’t around, leaving the house just as Josh arrived. It’s awkward, to say the least. Finding himself unable to properly look either sister in the eyes. “Are you for real? You want to do it again?” Genuinely annoyed, some humor at Josh's expense begins.
“So, tell me again what you thought of being inside my sister?" She chuckles; last night's mishap is already something she's ready to relentlessly tease Josh about. "Come on, Em, can we just move on?" He says uncomfortably, fiddling with his fingernails.
Emma lets out a sigh, "Fiiiine! I'll let it go for right now. It's just crazy, you know? You were totally inside Brit! And you liked it!" She makes a gross-out face, sticking the very tip of her tongue outside her mouth. "You know she doesn't even brush her tongue, right?" Emma giggles one more time to herself before letting the subject finally drop. Much to Josh's relief.
She heads over to the counter, towards the same loaf that had started all the commotion yesterday."I don’t get this weird thing you have for mouths and being eaten or whatever," She says, casually removing two pieces and placing them down on the plate. “Sounds pretty gross, but if you’re going to keep bothering me, I guess you can be my lunch.” She states flatly.
There's another familiar jump. Your stomach drops before the sensation cuts out entirely. In the blink of an eye, you're simply a piece of bread on your friend's smooth ceramic plate. It’s intimidating watching her stare down at you with a lazy, almost apathetic glare. Underlying anxiety starts to creep into your consciousness; the size of her lording over you like this starts to worry you.
Emma checks her watch, "Shoot, I'm going to be late." She notes, hurrying to put together lunch. She grabs some peanut butter from the cabinet above and flings open the fridge door somewhat recklessly, reaching for the glass jar of Smucker's strawberry jelly. Not eager to be late for work yet again, she grabs a butter knife hastily from the drawer below and screws open both jars in a rather rushed manner.
Emma is far more worried about work than having some fun. You assumed, perhaps incorrectly, that she'd have fun with it. Flirty advances, maybe a few playful teases, but all those fantasies built up in your head are absent. It's as if you're just another piece of bread to her. The playful attitude she’d had only moments ago is out the window; the second added stress of being late was brought into the equation. You’re just something Emma will inevitably forget about until lunchtime.
She wastes no time whipping up the inside of the creamy peanut butter jar, getting a considerable swirl lathered onto the edge of the dull utensil before unceremoniously slathering it across you. Every pass she makes is felt in detail, gradually smoothing the generous sticky chunks across you.
It's terrifying to realize the knife’s coming back for you, if only because of its sheer speed. Without even bothering to wipe it off, she dips it right into the jar of Smuckers, something you find sort of gross. Emma swirls it around in a similar motion, breaking up the chunks of jelly into easily spreadable pieces, jello-like in their consistency. Ready to slather you up in a fresh set of fruit-flavored goop.
It lands on top of you, covering what little of your top surface hasn't been smoothly caked on, as Emma hums, dressed nicely in her best business casual. She applies it evenly, coating you thoroughly in a gluey mess of tastiness. You have the urge to recoil as the slick spread splatters across you, mixing in seamlessly with the already buffed-out smattering of peanut butter.
Disgusted, you almost feel like you'd just finished an intense workout. The closest possible descriptor that grabs you is sticky, yet, you feel complete. Like every part of you is exactly where it should be. It’s all-encompassing, but the worst is yet to come as Emma takes another piece from the loaf, pressing it all against you. You’re smeared with the compressed condiments, a mixture of warm and cold assaulting you with their unique sensations.
Suddenly, your perspective shifts, a feeling you're almost getting used to. Emma's soft hand presses down on you, carelessly finishing the sandwich. The individual strokes of peanut butter lining your bottom are a part of your very being now, as is the jelly. Each swirl, each jellied chunk, all tangible. The awful feelings are suddenly gone. You’d seen them as condiments previously, ingredients to enhance and add to the flavor. However, you find yourself unable to view them as separate anymore. They're simply you.
Emma throws her purse beside you, zipping it up as she reaches towards the back of the counter for a baggie. Opening it wide, she gently cuts you in half diagonally, producing two neat triangle slices from you. It creates a split in your conscious space, expanding what you know of awareness. It's almost like there are two of you, two halves making up one Josh. It's an odd feeling, one you have trouble even quantifying yourself.
Neatly, your friend stuffs you away with one hand, checking her phone with the other, and typing what you can only assume is a hasty apology to her superior for being late before zipping up the clear plastic bag containing you. She places you on the counter as the phone she'd only just put away starts to ring. "Ugh!" Emma grunts in annoyance, shoving her hand back inside and answering the call.
"Hello? Yeah, I'm on my way." You catch a brief eye roll meant for nobody but Emma herself. "Mhm." She continues talking to a voice you can't hear, tapping a foot impatiently against the ground. As Emma deals with the consequences of being late, you can't help but notice a similarly packaged ziplock right next to you. It's different enough, but what's to stop her from grabbing the other one and rushing out?
More importantly, what would happen if somebody else found you? Would Em even be able to turn you back if she didn't know where you had ended up? There wasn't a time limit this time, so if you were eaten by Brit, maybe even Emma’s mom… it's a chilling thought, one that you have zero intention of taking any further. However, all the worrying is naught as Emma heads for the correct bag. "Okay, be there soon." Emma hangs up, letting out a sigh before grabbing the correct baggie and throwing it into her purse.
Ziiiiiip, you find yourself steeped in darkness.