4bidden

6. Reminiscing

Nothing in the world can compare to a touch of sweet and blossoming love. Not even the sight of Priscilla drenched in tears. Though it's a close call!

I can't count on two hands how many times Priscilla has come moping around Paxson's house in the last few weeks. It's pitiful honestly. Her mascara dripping from molten eyes, sobs that weep in torment and agony claiming it "eats her life away". And one cannot forget her uncalled-for declarations of affection that force a gag out of me.

I think it's safe to say that the precious Ice Queen has fallen to her misery, and I for one, couldn't be more thrilled about it!

It's bliss again, just like old times. I have something to wake up to every morning. I have people who care about me. Most importantly, I have the solidified closure that Paxson adores me. We've drawn closer, smiling and laughing at our togetherness. Surely, if I was an observer of this relationship I'd mock and ridicule the sight of it and crack obnoxious jokes in disgust, but hey, that's beside the point.

What keeps me on edge is the space of our infinity. The strings that knot our hearts in a harmonic bond. Whether it's friendly cuddling on the couch, working on my homework together, or even grocery shopping. Paxon and I are together. About damn time!

It's a Thursday night and through my bedroom door, there has been a lack of commotion. It wasn't until I finished my nonsense school assignments and stepped out my bedroom door that I noticed the house turn into a ghost town. I tiptoe down the stairs to find no one in sight. I've only been up in my room for a good two hours, did everyone get abducted?

Like a snail, I drag my feet down each step patiently. As I come closer to the ground floor, the aroma of spices tickles my nose. I faintly hear the sound of piano music gracefully filling the house with a magical sensation.

I finally reach the wood floor that cools my bare feet. My arms wrap around my chest. I peek over the wall to see who hides in the kitchen, and when my eyes catch the culprit, I gasp.

He glances my way briefly, then does a double-take. I sense the grin on his lips before he speaks.

"You're done with your work early." Paxson's voice holds no seriousness. I bring myself towards him on impulse.

We're alone, truly alone, and this fact both scares and excites me. "What's this all about?" I creep closer and welcome the sweet scent of a warming masterpiece being created by an angel.

"This," Paxson faces me with a grin, "is for you."

Beside me, a table set for two. Tulips rest in the center of the table with a candle beside it and a salad bowl is already placed among them. "Is this a dinner just for us?" My eyes plead back at him. Paxson looks at me again, stirring a pot on the stove.

"My mom, the kids, and my uncle wanted to get away for the afternoon, I can't imagine why?" He winks at me mischievously and chuckles.

I relax into the seat next to me and gape in awe. He did this for me, for us. What's the catch? "Should I be worried?"

Paxson turns off the stove and checks the oven one more time before clicking that too in hypersleep. "The only thing to be worried about is how fat you're going to feel after you've stuffed your face."

One by one Paxson fills the dining table with rice, soup, grilled chicken, and creamy macaroni and cheese. The rice is layered with bits of broccoli and spices. The chicken is grilled to a perfect golden brown. I marvel at the cheesy macaroni swapped with a smooth cheese sauce. I can't contain myself much longer.

I top my plate with a serving of everything and dig right in. Paxson does the same. After fifteen minutes of dead silence, while we munch on our food, my stomach cries for help.