Broken Glass

Baked Ziti

     Allen didn't know how long he had sat there. Cookie had crawled out of his lap after the first half hour. It still had taken him time to find the energy to fight his way to his feet. When he finally stood he wondered into the kitchen. He rubbed his forehead and sighed before dropping his hand to the counter. It hit with a cold hard smack. The sound cleared the fog like a slap to the face. He drifted through the kitchen opening cabinets and drawers. Wednesday. Baked Ziti. It was her favorite. 

   He set the table. Two plates. Each in their normal spots. He filled both plates and sat down in front of his watching the steam rise. Picking up his fork he tapped it against the plate and bounced his leg. His keys jingled in his pocket. Allen wasn't hungry. He closed his eyes and just felt. Just remembered. 

    At first he only heard their laughter. Could feel the memory of it rumbling in his chest. Their first night living together in the apartment. Emily had insisted on making lasagna. She had spent all day making it. Every time he'd try to draw her out or catch her attention she'd fend him off with whatever she held in her hands. Forcing him out of the Kitchen but never failing to give him a kiss before turning back to the lasagna.    

   When it was finally done and placed at the table there wasn't much of a chance to eat it. Allen smiled at her and chased her around the table. She swatted at him not really running. He caught her, his arms wrapped around her stomach, pulling her close to him. She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder. He brought his lips to her forehead. Both of them wrapped in a blanket of content. The moment was broken when Allen got impatient. He spun her around before lifting her onto the table. She laughed, throwing her head back and eyes full of fire, before wrapping her legs around his waist. They met each other in the middle for a kiss. She let it go on for a moment smiling into it. He tried to move is hands somewhere more fun thinker hips but he wasn't ready for the face-full of lasagna he got in return. He sputtered in disbelief and mock glared at her. Only to get another handful spread in his hair. Thus started the first official lasagna war. Back and fourth they went, destroying the dining room and the kitchen. When messy hands reached into they glass tray scrapping at nothing they were forced to call a truce. 

     They both looked at the mess they had made and laughed. Linking their hands together Allen pulled her off the floor and into a kiss. 

She laughed "We still-"  she pushed him away " We still need dinner" 

He rolled his eyes "Thinking with your stomach Em" 

She gave him a look and he relented. Truthfully he was hungry too. He looked from the kitchen to Emily with his eyebrows raised. She quirked her lips as if trying not to give in fully to the smile. 

"I'll order takeout?" he said, a sheepish tone warping his voice

She let herself smile at that "Chinese?"

He accepted the offering for what it was. Secure in the knowledge that there was no winning against her. Not that he wanted to. He would willingly and gladly lose every food fight, every battle, every argument, just to see her smile like that for the rest of his life. 

He looked at her "God, I love you"

Allen went to kiss her again but Emily placed her hand on his chest and shook her head.

"Go clean up you lasagna monster" she said, voice warm

And he smiled because he knew what it meant. That she loved him with her whole heart. So he went and cleaned up. He came back to see her scrubbing at the cabinets.

"At least they aren't white" He said, hands in the pockets of his sweats 

She narrowed her eyes at him "I'd kill you" 

He pointed at her "You started it" 

This time she did glare. He backed away with a smile. He supposed that wasn't strictly true, where do you draw that line? He moved close again and crouched next to her, careful not to get messy again. His hand hovered above her back but there was no clean place to put it down so he dropped it. 

He smiled at her "Your turn. Go clean up"

She turned to him and held up a paper towel "I am cleaning"

"This can wait" he said "now go"

She smiled at him and left. 

He pulled out the couch cushions and the blankets to build a fort. When she came back she gave him the smile he'd been hoping for. They had a picnic in the living room watching cheesy movies until they fell asleep.

Allen shook his head. When he opened his eyes they were wet. The ziti had gone cold. Slowly he moved wrapping up both plates and putting them away. He left a sticky note on the fridge for Emily. Just incase she came home. He walked to their room and sat at their desk. Well really it was her desk, and not just because she picked it out. He flipped through the notebooks of all her works in progress. When had she stopped talking to him about them? When had he stopped asking? She hadn't even bothered to pack them. Slowly he emptied the bag, putting everything back in its rightful place. Down to the book on the end table. Making sure to angle it just right. Once he was done he went back to the desk. Maybe it was his turn to tell the story? He fell asleep with a pen in his hand.