Pasta

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I laid in my room, furious at Margot. I glared at the ceiling. How could Margot treat me like that? We were supposed to be in a relationship. I hated that I felt like she was ashamed of me, her secret metalhead that she would pull out of her pocket whenever she felt like it.

I rolled over onto my side and felt a pang in my chest when a waft of lavender came from the pillow she had slept on the night before. I pulled it to me, taking in any scent I could. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Nephew?" Wayne asked, poking his head around the door.

"What?" I snapped. He furrowed his brows.

"Okay, grouchy. What's your deal?"

"Nothing," I replied, trying to temper my tone. He scoffed.

"You're a bad liar, kid," Wayne quipped. I rolled my eyes. If he only knew.

"Do you need something, Wayne?" I asked, wanting him to leave. He sighed.

"Well, I wanted to tell you that you have a visitor before I left for my shift," he answered, leaving my room before I could tell him to make them leave. I groaned, my mood worsening as I got up. I stormed down the hallway, my anger growing with each step.

"Whoever is here, do me a favor and get the—"

I stopped in my tracks when I saw my visitor. Margot stood bashfully in my living room, Tupperware in her hand as she smiled weakly.

"Hi, Sir Tiebaut," she said softly. I felt my chest ache from the nickname she had given me, but I kept my distance, despite wanting to scoop her up in my arms. I crossed my arms.

"What do you want, Margot?" I asked. My heart broke when she winced at my using her actual name. She held up the container in her hand.

"I, um, I wanted to, um, well," she stammered, looking down at her feet. "Well, I remembered, um, that you liked my parents' spaghetti, um, so, I asked them to help, um, help me make it."

I smiled in spite of myself and shook my head. She took in a shuddering breath.

"I'm so sorry, Eddie, I really am," she said, her voice breaking. She looked at me and I saw that her eyes were welling with tears. I lost all my resolve and crossed to her, pulling her in my arms. "You don't embarrass me, Eddie, I promise, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, princess," I cooed, trying to calm her down. She cried harder and shook her head.

"It's not, Eddie, I don't ever want you to feel like that, especially because of how special you make me feel," she cried. I pulled her to me, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, princess," I sighed, hating how upset she was.

"I really don't want to break up," she sobbed. I felt my stomach drop.

"We aren't breaking up," I said quickly. She stopped crying and looked up at me. She watched me for a beat and took in a sniffling breath.

"We aren't?" she croaked. I smiled and shook my head.

"This is just a fight, Go," I replied, scratching her back. She looked up at me and then immediately started crying again. "Go, why are you crying now?"

"Because I'm so relieved," she said between sobs. I grinned and held her close, kissing the top of her head.

"We're going to be okay, princess," I said, playing with her hair. She sniffled and buried her face in my chest.

"I hate that I made you feel like that," she squeaked. I smiled.

"It's okay, princess," I assured. Pulled her face out of my chest and traced her cheeks with my thumb. "You just need to let me give you hickeys once in a while."

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