send.

changes

     Ever since the conversation, things have been better. Smoother. More relaxed. You'd always thought you couldn't possibly be any closer to Jonathan.

     You were wrong.

     His laugh fills your kitchen like a song, echoing off the walls and into your ears, putting a radiant smile on your face. You almost never venture out of your room with your laptop in tow, but things have changed in quite a few ways for you as of late. Besides, nobody's home. No harm in bringing Jon along while you make yourself dinner.

     His face is flushed from laughing as he makes a mock sound of disgust, still in uproar over you dumping the entire packet of powdered faux-cheese into your microwave macaroni. For whatever reason, his highbrow tastes believe that there can ever possibly be such a thing as too much cheese. You, however, beg to differ.

     "Are you really trying to hang me out to dry because I like my noodles cheesier than most?"

     "No, I'm coming at you because you've ascended the tiers of cheesiness. You're beyond levels that are good and right with the world. This is a crime. A sin. You should be persecuted. How do you even taste the noodles under all of that slime?"

     "Will the torment never end?" You toss your arms up in exasperation as he continues to cackle at your expense, biting back your own grin and forcing your lower lip out in a pout. You cross your arms and look down expectantly at your webcam, waiting for him to choke back his chuckling and clear his throat.

     "You know, I'm only doing it because I care about your cholesterol."

     You roll your eyes, but your response is cut off by the microwave beeping, announcing the completion of your shameful meal. You move to cross the kitchen and stand on your toes, pulling the door open and retrieving your steaming cup. As you scoop up a fork and move to plop down in a chair before the laptop, you wave the container tauntingly at him, earning a look of distaste.

     "It's not affecting my cholesterol if it's not even real cheese."

     "Oh, bullshit."

     "Does cheese even affect cholesterol? I want to see your sources. Cite your facts."

     The onslaught continues even after you've cleaned out the last remaining traces of wannabe-cheese from inside the cup, filling your kitchen with more laughter and conversation than its seen in years. You can't remember the last time any room in the house outside of your own has felt so... un-lonely.

     The thought makes you think a bit, pressing the fork to your lips and looking down at your keyboard, falling quiet. Jon's snickering dies down, his voice taking its place.

     "What's on your mind?" You've both dropped the act of pretending not to notice the small things, finding it easier to tackle them head-on. After all, you've both seen what it can do when stuff like that goes neglected for too long. You offer a soft shrug, looking up at the screen and pursing your lips.

     "Just thinking. The house feels so much... fuller when I'm talking to you."

     "Nice Full House pun."

     "Oh, shut up, you nerd," you sigh, shaking your head despite the smile that sets itself on your lips. "How many days is it now?"

     "Twenty-six." He gives you a rueful smile, like he's wishing he could fast-forward time or fly across the gap between you himself, plane be damned. God, do you want him here.

     "Twenty-six too many."

     "You said that about twenty-seven, and twenty-eight..." He ticks them off on his fingers, raising a brow at you as a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.