“I can’t believe they didn’t give me a toy! Don’t happy meals come with a toy?”
This came from my 22 years old husband, a royal that was the heartthrob of the Moroi court and probably every girl he winked at: Adrian Ivashkov.
He frowned, checking the empty meal box again as if a toy would magically appear.
“Adrian, she said they ran out of toys,” I told him, biting into my burger.
He gave up after a few seconds and leaned against the couch. He threw an arm over his eyes and mumbled something about how unfair it was because he really wanted a gift.
I shook my head and laughed quietly. Who knew that a brooding vampire would want a Happy Meal to make his day better? We drove the nearest McDonalds to get the meal after a bad visit from Adrian’s father and Eddie. I didn’t know what exactly his father’s visit was about, seeing as I was with Rose but it really upset Adrian and he wouldn’t talk about it. It didn’t help when Eddie came over and told us that the lead they had on Jill’s kidnapping was a dead end.
He wouldn’t stop blaming himself for what happened, saying that he failed in protecting her. That after bringing her back from the dead, he couldn’t even make sure she was somewhere safe before he ran off acting like Superman trying to save Lois Lane – him being superman and I being Lois.
I tried to get his mind off things by telling him how when my sisters and I were younger, my mum would sometimes take us to get Happy Meals if our dad got a little over board with his controlling nature and we got a loud and terrible lecture.
Right after the story ended, he hopped off bed where he’d been drowning in his thoughts and dragged me out the door with him saying that it was exactly what he needed.
Looking at him now, I wasn’t so sure. He just looked as miserable as he did before, maybe even more.
“I can’t believe you said it was for our kids,” his voice and statement surprised me.
I felt my cheeks heat up remembering the words I’d said not less than an hour ago.
“She was looking at you like you were crazy, I had to say something,” I explained.
Which was true. Who wouldn’t when a guy shows up at the counter at 1 am in flannel pants and a hoodie saying he wanted two happy meals? To the Moroi world, 1 am was “day time” but to McDonalds and other human 24-hour shops it was when crazy guys showed up with a gun and demanded all the money. The girl had worn a very skeptical expression, not shaken by his good looks as much as she was by his wild arrival and demand. I had to step in and explain that we are ordering for our “kids” and that Adrian had a bit too much coffee.
“Yeah but that’s how they always look at me, more so lately,” his emerald eyes were on me and a slightly amused expression replaced his previous one. Teasingly he said, “Do you want kids Sydney?”
I rolled my eyes and threw the now empty box at him, “I think we had this conversation before. Plus it was the first thing that came to my mind, get over it Ivashkov.” He still was smiling and I was trying really hard not to smile back and look serious. “Now take the trash away.”
Adrian’s amusement turned into a mischievous grin but he did as he was told. He picked up our boxes and empty cups, threw them in the bag and walked to the kitchen. I drew my knees up and leaned into the couch where he’d just been a few seconds away. I could see him from where I sat, washing my coffee mug and the plates we used for the ketchup and mayonnaise, and the French fries Mountain we made.
My thoughts drifted to the idea of the two of us with a kid. Sure, it would be amazing. Adrian would make an amazing father – he was caring, understanding, funny and patient. I, on the other hand, would be absolutely terrible. I was not mother material, sure, I loved kids, but I couldn’t see myself as a mother. I wouldn’t know what to do, how to raise him or her up, I’d mess up big time. Children weren’t cars that I can take care off with logic and handwork. Plus, my childhood wasn’t a normal one, and it wasn’t something I would want my kids to have.
But … if we did have a child, I was sure of one thing: the boy would end up like his father. The thought of a mini-Adrian running around made me smile.
With that thought in my head came an idea. I walked quietly to the kitchen and snuck up behind him. Snaking my arms around his waist I said, “I found your gift.”
Adrian looked over his shoulder eyes sparkling with hope, “really?”
I nodded. Standing on the tip of my toes, I put both hands on his cheeks to bring his face closer and gave him a kiss. It was quick considering that he wasn’t facing me directly and I wasn’t steady, but it still made my head a little light like always.
When I pulled back, I found him grinning. “I really like this gift.”
He closed the water tap and spun around so we stood face-to-face, he put his still wet hands on my waist and hoisted me up on the sink. Water that had sprayed over the counter during the cleaning processes soaked the bottom of my pants but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wrapped my legs around his waist and brought him closer.
Leaning my forehead against his, I felt his breath on my lips and cheeks, his nose lightly rubbing mine. I tugged at his shirt with my hands and said, “You know if we want a mini-Adrian running around, I think we should head to the bedroom … and you have to lose this shirt on the way.”
Adrian chuckled, “a mini-Adrian?” In one swift move, his shirt was gone and his arms pulled me off the counter and closer to him. “I think we should get started on that right now.”
I laughed at the enthusiasm in his voice and the devil-may-care grin on his face before leaning in to kiss him.
