"I still feel really bad." She mumbles into my chest, laying across me as we watch another christmas movie.
"About your whole family situation?" I ask and she shakes her head.
"Staying here." Her fingers find a way to mine and she latches there, intertwining them and squeezing them tightly.
"You don't have to feel bad, it's something my mom doesn't mind doing. She's the type of person who will do it no matter what, and if she didn't she would worry herself crazy. She already likes you a lot." She looks up at me and smiles through the glassy tears already forming in her eyes. I take my free hand and run it through her hair, running freely around my lap after she brushed it earlier.
"Yeah, but now she has to spend extra money feeding me and I just feel so guilty." She mumbles.
"Seriously, my mom is the chillest person you'll ever meet. She would probably take you in even if I you weren't my girlfriend. And my mom has plenty of money, we only live here because it's the two of us but she makes a lot where she works." All I get in response is a small nod, but I take what I can get and sigh.
"I'm happy to spend more time with you." I say to her and I can feel her smile against my neck. "So don't feel bad. Seriously."
"Okay." She says, and I push the hair off her face and scoop her up into my arms.
"Put me down!" She screeched, her bum on my shoulder and her arms flailing, smacking my own bum every so often. I finally let her down, setting her on top of the kitchen counter, right next to the stove.
"What do you want to make?" I ask and she opens up the food cabinet next to her, and pulling out top ramen packets, handing me two of them. "Top Ramen? Really?"
"Yes it's my favorite." She laughs and hops down from the counter, and fills the small pot up with water, setting it to boil. "Grab some tapatío and lime."
"For ramen?" I say, bewildered.
"It's only good that way," She shrugs, and I grab a lime from the basket on the counter and hot sauce from the refrigerator. It only takes a few minutes to finish cooking, and I pour the noodles equally into two bowls, yet to pour the flavor packets in.
"Let me finish cooking it." She says, and I shake my head.
"Teach me how to make it." I ask, and she laughs at me in a mocking way.
"How to make top ramen?" She questions, "Oh, to add the stuff." I nod and stand right behind her. She guides my hands over hers like they do in the movies, although she was teaching me.
"You pour out about half of the water, then you add the flavor packet thingy, six drops of hot sauce and squeeze half a lime." My arms follow hers as she guides me through the movements, producing two hot bowls of noodles.
"Tada!" She exclaims, and I can't help but turn her around and kiss her, my arms traveling down her back. I picked her up and set her on the counter so I wouldn't have to bend so much, one hand on her face and the other tracing her back dimples.
I hear someone clear their throat, and I turn to see my mother standing in the kitchen, arms folded and a smile on her face. "Sorry mama." I say, picking February up and letting her down from the counter. We take our bowls of soup to our small circular kitchen table, sitting down across from each other, our fuzzy sock covered feet nudging below us.
"She still loves you." I say to her, and she looks up from her ramen.
"Do you mean your mother or mine?" Her hand rests on mine and I rub slow circles on it.
"Both."
YOU ARE READING
3am
Short Story"It's 3am and all I want is your lips on mine. It's the same as yesterday at 7pm, or Thursday at noon. It's the same as every hour, every minute, every second since I met you." #26 in Short Story.
