"Lance!" Marissa shouted again as he boyfriend tore of another chunk of porch roof. She tried to swat it out of his hand, but he turned away and stuffed it into his mouth.
Marissa stamped her foot. "Put that down! You can't... you can't just eat it!"
"Why mmph not?" Lance grunted indignantly around a mouthful of sugar. He gulped it down and reached for more. "We've been walking for hours, and I haven't eaten a crumb since breakfast." This wasn't actually true. To quieten Lance's grumbling, Marissa had given him both of the large protein bars she'd packed for the hike along with a large slab of chocolate mint cake. But Lance had conveniently forgotten about those. "You got us lost," he continued, carefully removing a gingerbread brick from the wall, "and I found us food. Simple." He bit into his brick. "Candy's meant for eating isn't it? ... Ooh frosting!"
Grinning gleefully Lance ran a hand along the top of the window gathering up frosting and slurping it down with his tongue, giving himself a white beard.
"But it's a house!" Marissa said, feeling a bit stupid. It was a house, though. There was no denying that.
"A delicious house," Lance replied, sucking frosting off his fingers and casually breaking the end of the window ledge, which seemed ot Marissa to be a giant chunk of toblerone. She opened her mouth to reply, but another voice beat her to it.
"You're quite right, young man," it said.
Marissa and Lance swivelling around, startled. They'd been so focused on arguing, and Lance had been munching so loudly, that they hadn't heard the door open.
An woman stood in the doorway. She was lean, a similar height to Marissa, and with keen green eyes, and long platinum blonde hair. She could have been fifty or sixty, and had the look of having once been a great beauty. She smiled at them. A friendy smile, though Melissa was sure she saw the woman's eyes glisten a little. "But I would like to keep the roof intac if possible," the woman said. She chuckled when Lance, cheeks bulging, looked apologetic but also disappointed. "Don't worry. I've been baking all morning. Why don't you come inside for a snack? You must be hungry, after walking all this way."
Lance's stomach rumbled. "Baking?" He said, trying to sound casual, and wiping cream from his lips.
Marissa rolled her eyes. Her boyfriend had an enormous sweet tooth, and was always snacking on chocolates and cream buns and other pastries while playing his video games or watching TV. If it wasn't for his height and rapid metabolism he'd surely have grown fat. As it was, the only sign of his indulgence in treats was a mild curve to the abdomen on his otherwise slim frame, the slightest potbelly that pushed at his white shirt.
Meanwhile, the woman was nodded. "Cakes and pies, and cream buns. Raspberry trifle." She turned for the doorway, beckoning them through. Before Marissa could stop him, Lance had popped another chunk of roof into his mouth and darted into the house, the old woman following him in with a smile. "Come on dear," she called back.
Marissa hesitated. A million questions were running through her mind. Where were they? Who was this old woman? Why had she been baking so much, out here in the middle of nowhere? Come to that, why for did she have a house made of sweets?!
But before Marissa could ask, her own stomach growled. She placed a hand on it. Unlike Lance, she really hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.
I suppose it can't hurt, she thought, stepping over the graham cracker front porch, She's just a harmless old woman. We'll have a little to eat and then get directions to the next village. Marissa reached for the doornob, realised Lance had eaten it, shook her head, and pushed the door open to go inside.
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