Sweet Lunch [Gilbert]

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It was one of Elise’s favourite times of day, namely lunchtime. She sat at one of the tables in the cafeteria, alone for a change. She didn’t like it, it was too quiet on her own. She preferred to be surrounded by people having a conversation, and being able to join in on that conversation. It appeared that it was not meant to be like that today though.

When she finished the sandwiches she had prepared that morning, Elise started on the waffle she had brought. They also sold waffles in the cafeteria, but Elise refused to eat those (and pretty much everything else they sold there). They were dry and tasteless, and nothing like the quality she was used to. Everything tasted better when you made it yourself anyway, and with her mother’s recipe, the waffles Elise made knew no equal.

When she had first gotten here and learnt that Americans considered waffles a breakfast food, she was confused. When she had tried said breakfast food, she was even more so. Elise didn’t understand America. Waffles were meant to be a snack food, not a breakfast. Then again, it wasn’t as if the things they called waffles were anything like the real thing. The waffles she had tasted here were soft and floppy. Who enjoyed eating that? There was no real bite to it.

Ever since she tasted the first of the American waffles, she made sure to make a batch of waffles of her own recipe every once in a while, since there was nowhere else she could get some decent ones around here. These were waffles how they were supposed to be, hard and crisp on the outside. At least there was something to chew on this way, opposed to the American waffles, which immediately turned into mush in her mouth. She had to watch her diet, but there was no harm in occasionally having a waffle after a healthy lunch. And even though she had no company to share with, she would still take a moment to enjoy this.

[spider]

Gilbert had walked into the cafeteria, bag slung over his shoulder as usual. He was here to grab something to eat for lunch. All those classes he had skipped had really tired him out and he was ready to stuff his face full of whatever food they were serving here.

He went through line, filling his tray with wurst and pizza and whatever weirdly coloured desert was at the end, then stuffed a bagel into his mouth and turned around to find a seat. Ahhh, it seemed the tables were all too full for his awesome self to sit down.

Gilbert finally spotted a table that was mostly empty, save for one girl sitting there. He figured she would do and made his way over to her. She was pretty enough, but Gilbert wasn't really interested. Still, she seemed nice enough that she wouldn't mind him sitting down there. Hey, who wouldn't mind his awesome self?

"Hey there! Yeah yeah, I know. The awesome me is sitting across from you, don't mention it!" He grinned wickedly at her as he set his tray down in the spot across from her. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt. What's your name?" He held out his hand as he awkwardly set his bag on the floor next to his chair.

It was then, when he looked down at her tray, that he froze. That was most definitely not pizza. "They have waffles here?! I thought they only had that shitty American stuff!" He left his tray and bolted back up to try and find where they were keeping said waffles.

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Elise looked around the cafeteria as she ate. She spotted a pale guy with white hair who seemed to be headed towards her table. She’d seen him around the school, since a guy looking like that wasn’t exactly hard to miss, but she had never really spoken to him. She wasn’t even sure what his power was. Though it wasn’t like that really mattered. As long as he was nice, she’d be glad with the company.

As soon as the guy sat down and opened his mouth, Elise wasn’t all that sure anymore whether sitting alone was really all that bad. She raised an eyebrow at the guy. Large ego, much? While she had been wanting company, she didn’t particularly consider it an honour to have this guy sit across from her. She didn’t even know him. He obviously thought very highly of himself.

However, Elise wouldn’t be Elise if she didn’t give anyone an equal chance. “Elise van Gent.” She introduced herself, giving him a small smile as she shook his hand. She wanted to go on and ask what accomplishments had made him so ‘awesome’ that she should be flattered that he chose to share a table with her, of all people, but she couldn’t really get a word in before the guy became very excited about the food on her tray.

“No, I....” Elise started, though she was too late. The guy had already dashed off, and the ‘made them myself’ was never voiced. Oh well, he had left his tray here, so as soon as he realised that these waffles weren’t sold here, he’d be back and Elise would have another chance to explain. She had another one in her bag, so if he was nice, she might decide to share it with him. However obnoxious he may prove to be, at least he had good taste in food.

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Gilbert barely even caught the girl's name before he had darted out of his seat out of sheer excitement. However, once he got up there, he was severely disappointed. He had searched all over the lunch menu and on the trays they had out for waffles, but saw nothing that even closely resembled what the other student had. One of the workers informed him that they would be more likely to be on their breakfast menu, to which Gilbert stuck up his nose.

So, if they didn't serve them here, then where did the woman get her waffles? She couldn't have made them herself, could she? He decided to wander back to his table and investigate this elusive waffle mistress. The thought of them being homemade made him more than excited to talk to her again and, hopefully, get on her good side.
He hadn't had anything but the frozen American waffles since he came to this school and he was dying for a real one once again. Americans really didn't know how to make real waffles.

Gilbert wandered back to where he had left his backpack and sat back across from her. "So. They don't serve those here. So, who's your dealer? And how much did you have to pay to get those?" He teased, pointing at the food on her plate.
He grabbed his own slice of pizza and began eating, hoping nothing would upset his stomach. The food here had a tendency of doing that to him. He scrunched up his nose in rememberance of how the food here could effect him.