Part 2: You start running closer to the Dennys and soon you’re standing at the front door to the famous breakfast food restaurant. With the egg yolk in your hand, you pause and catch your breath before stepping inside. You feel nervous. You know he’s watching you. Quickly you step inside and look around. A genderless elderly couple is sitting in the farthest corner booth away from you. They look up from their meal and stare at you with black, beady eyes. A tingley feeling shoots down your spine when you make eye contact with them. You turn away and walk towards the door to the kitchen. You step inside and walk over to the cook.
“I thought you might want this back,” you say to him. He is at least two feet taller than you. He looks down at you, perplexed, and then down at the yolk. His eyes widen when they see it. After a moment of pure silence, he grabs the yolk and puts it in his apron pocket. Then he grabs both of your hands with his and shakes them vigorously. Tears are streaming down his cheeks.
“Thank you so, so much,” he says. “You have no idea how much this means to me … to us.” You nod and smile uncomfortably. Without saying anything more you wave and walk out the door. A metaphorical weight lifts off your shoulders and you take in a deep breath. You did it. So you think…
are you still doing fic outlines, if so: All But The Kitchen Sink, Viktuuri