Who needs breathing anyways?!
Is this a prompt, anon…? ….kay.
Grace thinks that maybe this might be some kind of joke. This cannot actually be what happens on British television. People cannot seriously watch this sort of thing.
Hannah is sitting on the end of her hotel bed, watching the screen as if some kind of horror film is showing. Every now and then she hides behind her hands, when it looks as though a tea loaf (what ever the fuck that is) is in jeopardy.
Grace checks the clock again, and she really needs to fall asleep, but equally can’t, because she can’t just fall asleep with Hannah sitting on the end of her bed, seemingly losing her mind over people baking in a tent. Really British people, who keep talking about the tea loafs as if it is their only child, in accents that are really hard to not laugh at.
Grace also wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, because there is a really tense, brass band led, score happening in the background, and Grace knows she’ll probably end up with anxiety dreams, about sinister tuba players following her home.
After a couple more inexplicable minutes, the scene cuts away to some V.T. about the history of the goddamn tea loaf, and Grace feels capable of nudging at Hannah’s butt with her foot, trying to get her attention.
“Hannah, are you eating this food or…?”
Hannah gasps, and then comes scooting back on the bed, so she’s propped herself up on the headboard. She picks up her salad again, but doesn’t seem to have the focus to be able to eat any of it.
“Sorry, I forgot. The baking is too intense. Seriously, last week there was this stack of biscuits that fell over, and I screamed.”
Grace laughs, because that is completely ridiculous and exactly the sort of thing that Hannah would do, and then pops a fry into her mouth, squinting at the screen.
“What do they win?”
“Nothing. They just, I don’t know. I think they just win being the winner. They probably get hugs from all the people. It’s all super British.”
Grace widens her eyes briefly, because now the tea loafs are being judged, by someone’s grandmother and a man who looks born to play bad cop in every porno, ever.
“They don’t win anything?”
“Shhh, Grace, I want to know what they’re… oooh, under-proved, that’s a bad thing, I’ve learnt, look at his face, he looks like they just spat on him…”
“Is it meant to be educational, then, this show? I don’t understand what is happening?”
“Shh shhh, I need to know what they say to angst girl…”
And so it continues for a while, much eating of loaf and looks of distress. Hannah puts her salad down again, seemingly overcome with emotion. Grace can feel her eyes closing, but gets nudged awake every three seconds, by Hannah wiggling around and gasping at whatever the judging people are saying.
And then it is over.
And then it isn’t, apparently, and now there is more baking.
“How much more is there Hannah?”
“They have to make this next thing, which they don’t get instructions for, and then their own massive baking creation. Last week there was a biscuit dalek. It was amazing, but then he lost.”
Grace thinks that when she gets back to her normal videos, Wednesday’s reviewing video will have to be this pointless baking show. Or Hannah’s reaction to this baking show – she isn’t sure yet.
Grace puts the plate of half eaten food over on the table, and then gets back on the bed, rolling to one side, because the lack of sleep is catching up with her now. Hannah looks down at her, and pats her vaguely on the head a couple of times.
“You want to throw me out, Gracie? You’re tired.”
Grace shakes her head, because lord knows she doesn’t want to come between Hannah and her one true love.
“No, you’re fine. I can fall asleep with you here.”
Hannah rubs a hand down to her shoulder, and Grace hums in approval, trying to suggest to Hannah that human contact isn’t completely unwelcomed. Hannah takes the hint, and shifts herself further down, so that Grace can roll onto her side and rest her head on Hannah’s shoulder, which is significantly less comfortable than the pillow, but what the hell. Sometimes human warmth is better than comfort.
Hannah clears her throat after a second.
“I should warn you that if you start snoring I will be throwing you out of your own hotel room Grace, because the baking is too important to be drowned out by your dalek impressions…”
Grace snorts at her, and pokes her in the side, causing Hannah to yelp.
“Shut up. Watch the weird bake off thing.”
“That’s what it is called, Grace, I told you that.”
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happy birthday honey princess angel pie!!!!!