Terms and Agreements (on hold indefinitely)

The Part Where an Awkward Mushy Thing Happens and I'm Psychic-ish

                                                                      26

Flynn and I sat on the couch facing the TV, Tilly sitting between us, her eyes locked on the screen as she absentmindedly crammed goldfish crackers into her mouth.

She offered me some a little while ago, but she had kid slobber all over her fingers and I turned down the offer. And now I'm pretty sure that I insulted her and she's pissed.

She's a cute looking kid, there's no doubt about that. She's got these huge hazel eyes and a mop of dark brown curls and a funny little smile - when she's not giving you a deadpan look of biased appraisal.

I tried not to think about the mystery of Flynn's mother. It wasn't really any of my business, anyway, though my inner Nancy Drew thought otherwise. But I told her to shut up and sat in silence.

It was a little awkward, because I was there and awkwardness follows me around like a lost puppy, but after a few more strained minutes, Flynn asked if I wanted a cookie.

"Yes!" I answered immediately, with so much enthusiasm it made him laugh.

"Okay, so that's what you've been waiting for this whole time, isn't it?" He asked, rising to his feet and heading toward the kitchen.

"Well...." I followed him, leaning on the counter as he fetched the jar of delicious cookies, "...maybe."

"Your wish is granted, m'lady," Flynn said, giving a small, playful bow as he held the opened jar out to me.

I snorted and grabbed a handful - I'm not ashamed that I eat like Ronald Weasley - with a weird, lopsided curtsy. "Why thank you, good sir."

"Anything for you, Madam Sarcasm," he said, replacing the lid on the jar and putting it back on the counter.

"Ooh, I've graduated from Miss to Madam, have I?" I asked while nibbling on the first cookie.

"Madam Sarcasm does have a better flow to it than Little Miss Sarcasm, don't you think?" He asked with a grin before plucking a cookie out of my hand and taking a huge bite out of it.

"Hey!" I said, smacking his arm with my free hand, "you just defied the Terms and Agreements! No stealing my food!"

He shrugged and said slyly, "hey, you still owe me for that piece of cake you devoured at an alarming speed, okay?"

~

"So the trick to good mac and cheese, you see, is adding a bit of extra milk and some salt," Flynn was saying as he stirred the ingredients together vigorously.

"Astounding!" I said with exaggerated enthusiasm, "I've dreamed my whole life of discovering the secret to delicious macaroni and cheese! And now that I have, I just don't know what to do."

He turned to me with a goofy expression on his face. "That's the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream."

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes, "real dreams never come true."

His face became serious, and he stopped stirring the macaroni. "What makes you say that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Because it's true? Hope ruins lives."

"Aw, don't be that way," he said, his eyes meeting mine, "if anything ruins lives, it's giving up hope."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, dreamers and their crazy notions."

"Ah, pessimists and their crazy notions," he said, rolling his eyes in an impression of me.

I socked him in the arm in exasperation.