repetitive

twelve - end

Sometimes, when I look at Jackson, I think, Holy fucking shit, I'm so damn lucky.

He's mixing a large pot of ramen for the family. And by family, I mean me included. He said so the other day. He called me family. It was just a casual thing, slipped into the middle of a sentence, but he has no idea how much it meant to me.

Lily is drawing on the kitchen floor, a huge poster board spread out. I helped Jackson out with the money and we bought her a giant two hundred pack of markers. She's working on her latest project of patterns, her new Toothless the dragon plushie backpack still strapped on. She hasn't taken it off since her birthday.

"I washed your clothes," Jackson says, bringing my attention back to him.

"Huh?"

"Your clothes. They're on the bed."

I have clothes here. I also have a toothbrush here. I also have a free hook by the door for my jacket specifically for when I come over.

"Thanks," I say.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to take them home or leave them. I cleared a drawer for you."

"You did?"

"Yeah, it's no problem."

I smile, looking over at Lily on the floor once again. "Why don't you clean that up, squirt? We're going to eat dinner soon."

"Okay." She obeys me the way she would if Jackson ordered her to do so. She packs her markers away and sets her things against the wall before joining me at the table. Then she leans close to me, doing a horrible job at whispering, "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Duh," I reply with a smirk.

"Will you stay tomorrow too?"

"Probably."

"Will you stay forever?"

I gulp, and now I really wish she actually could whisper. I look over at Jackson, but he's just staring at the dinner he's still trying to cook. I think he heard though. Turning back to Lily, I search for words.

"Maybe," is all that comes out.

"Will you marry my daddy?"

Jackson immediately pipes up. "Let's eat!"

The TV in Jackson's room is playing news in the background. I'm not really paying attention to it. I'm just sitting back in the pillows against his headboard, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he changes for bed.

When he finishes, leaving his shirt off, he crawls onto the bed and sits right down on my lap, his arms running up my bare arms. It's hard to think straight with him like this.

"She asks that, you know," he says.

"Hm?"

"Lily. Asking if I'll marry you. She asks that a lot when you're not here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

Jackson shrugs. "I feel like everything is going perfectly."

"Me too."

"Maybe one day."

"Maybe sounds really good to me."

He smiles and leans in to meet my lips. I cup a hand to the back of his head, the other resting on his hip, and I love how this is just... okay. That we're like this. That I have someone that I can do this with, that I love. I wouldn't do it with anyone but him.