Before I can think it through, I drop the whisk. My hand grabs the front of his muscle shirt, pulling him toward me with more force than I meant to, but it's like I don't care. I need him close, and I need him now.
Noah's eyes widen for half a secon...
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Noah's room always smells like cinnamon, and it's weirdly comforting. I'm lying on his bed, flipping through an old comic book he's had since middle school, and Noah's just sitting on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone. His foot taps my knee now and then, like he's reminding me he's there even when we're not saying anything.
"Who's stronger, Hulk or Superman?" I ask, glancing at him over the pages, knowing it'll rile him up.
He doesn't even look up. "Don't start, Kairo. You know that's not even a real fucking debate."
I grin, poking his shoulder with my foot. "It is if you have taste."
Noah rolls his eyes but finally puts his phone down, turning around to face me. "Okay, first off, taste? You? Please." He grabs my ankle, giving it a playful squeeze, and I laugh, kicking him off. "And second, Hulk doesn't even stand a chance."
I feign shock. "Blasphemy."
Before he can argue back, there's a knock on the door, and Noah's mom pops her head in. She's always so calm, like she's perpetually in 'mom mode.'
"Kairo, sweetheart," she says with a warm smile. "I was wondering if you'd like to help out at the library this weekend. We're having the Autumn festival for the kids, and we could use someone to take pictures of them in their costumes."
I sit up, already nodding because I like helping her out. She always makes me feel like I'm part of the family. "Yeah, I'd love to. What time?"
As soon as I start talking, Noah reaches up and pulls on my earlobe, tugging gently like a child trying to annoy their sibling. I swat his hand away, giving him a look, but he just grins at me like the little menace he is.
"Oh, it starts around noon," his mom continues, pretending not to notice the ear-tugging situation, though I swear she's smiling a little more. "I can pick you up if you need a ride."
"Nah, I can get there on my own, but thanks," I say, batting Noah's hand away again when he tries for my ear a second time.
"Alright then," she chuckles softly. "You boys behave yourselves."
As soon as she leaves, Noah's at it again, this time leaning up to tug on my ear more persistently. "You're so annoying," I laugh, batting him away.
"You love it," he shoots back, all cocky like he hasn't been pulling on my ear for the last three minutes.
And okay, yeah, maybe I do.
***
I'm standing at the stove, whisking eggs in a bowl, trying to focus on breakfast, but Noah's making it difficult. He's leaning lazily against the counter next to me, one hand casually playing with the ends of my hair, twisting the strands of blonde around his fingers. Every now and then, he lets out this little hum, like he's thinking about something but not saying it out loud.
