The Soulmate Collection

26|| Made With Love

Realistic Fiction

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"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." -- Dr. Suess 

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"Shh, she's sleeping," I hear Stephen whisper to his buddies at the door. They make some crack about needing to give the Misses her beauty sleep, and they all start laughing, so I know they are drunk. I pushed Stephen to get out of the house because he was getting into a funk and needed to get his spark back. "Bye," he whisper-yells.

I smile knowing he is safe and snuggles deeper into our bed before sleep takes hold. Only to wake moments later from a loud thunk. "Shit. When did we put that there?" He asks from the ground.

"Hey, Hon," I call, sleep still heavy in my voice. "You okay?" I see him nod quickly, but he stops taking hold of his head. "Come to bed."

"Ooh, Mrs. O'Neil are you trying to seduce me?"

I laugh, "You got me. Now, come on."

"I'm coming," he groans, crawling to our bed discarding his dress shirt, and pants along the way. When he is to his pillow his face goes down and he is immediately knocked out. I push his shoulder to turn him over, so he can breathe before I turn on my side and let my eyes drift shut. 

My alarm clock wakes me, and I hear Stephen groan in pain, before throwing his pillow over his head. "Ugh, make it stop."

"Sorry, sweetie,"  I lean over and turn it off. I quickly get ready for my day at the office, after leaving an Advil and a glass of water by Stephen I head into the kitchen to make my lunch. I open the fridge only to see a brown paper bag marked To My Beautiful Wife. 

Awe he made me lunch last night. Wait. Last night when he was drunk. I quickly reach for the bag and open it up. Inside is a roll of bread, a handful of chips, and beer. I couldn't help it. I just started laughing. He tired, I shrug. 

When I get home after a hard day. I go straight to the bathroom as I usually do, but in the tub I see a water gun filled to the brim, and water balloons. On the shelf is a note, "Thank you, for taking the lunch I made you. I'm sure it wasn't good seeing as I could barley remember putting it together. I figured tonight we could have a little fun time, so put on the shorts and t-shirt, grab the water gun, load up on water balloons, and join me outside. See you in ten."

I can't help the smile that tugs on my lips as I read the note, and look at the side table to see the t-shirt and shorts he laid out for me. I exchange my clothing, grabbed my loaded weapon, and placed some of the water balloons into a cloth bag I had placed in the bathroom years ago. Once everything was secure,  I carefully stepping foot out of the bathroom, I slipped out the front, instead of going out the back. The neighborhood kids were playing on their bikes, and one of them gave me an interesting look, but I placed my finger up and smiled effectively silencing her. I snuck around to the side gate, quietly unlocking the hatch and tip-toeing beside the wall. I peeked over to see, Stephen with a water gun in hiss hand aiming it at the sliding glass door, waiting for my arrival.

As though he forgot, who he is married too, I shake my head, but take aim, and unleash water ammo on his unsuspecting self. He calls out, turning in surprise, but he is quick with the counter. Too soon my gun runs out of the water, and Stephen begins walking towards me a smirk on his face, so I take off running out of the backyard. His feet swashing in the muddy grass behind me. I throw all the water balloons I have in my pouch, but his fire is relentless. Laughing loudly, I sprint towards the hose. I twist the nozzle, and grab the handle, before aiming it at him. Stephen holds up his water gun, and hands in defeat. His brown hair appears black from the water, and his blue shirt is trenched. Drops of water fall onto his tan skin, and his milk chocolate eyes gleam with happiness. 

"Honey," he pleas, but I shake my head and spray him up and down. He flips the gun and tries to spray back, but it is futile, I may be out of the water, but I have the ultimate gun! Using his hand he pushes some of the water up, so it hits me in the face, and I scrunch my face to deflect the water from my eyes. I soon feel is arm wrapped around my waist, and he gains control of the hose, soaking mine in the icy cold summer water.

I spit out the water, but accept my defeat, and he turns off the water. He lets out a deep chuckle. "Molly," he whispers my name, still holding me in his arms. He moves the wet locks from my forehead, pushing them out of my face. He tilts my chin up. "Thank you."

I lean my head onto his wet chest, "You're welcome." We stood like that just holding one another, and then he whispered into my ear.

"Mrs. O'Neil, you and I are in need of a nice bath," he states, wiggling his brows suggestively at me, and instead of saying anything in reply, I just release him and race to the house. 

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