Burnt Ramen

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Warm. Kate feels very warm. She remembers coming in last night freezing cold and Finn—oh Finn! Looking down, she sees his arms wrapped around her and it sends her heart fluttering.

He’s still asleep, so Kate decides to let him wake up and go from there. Hey, she doesn’t mind cuddling up with him on the couch. In fact, she really likes it. She snuggles more into the blanket, pressing herself against his warm back.

Before long, Finn starts to shift around, and she hears him murmur, “Kate?”

“Morning,” she says gently, letting him stay in his sleepy state.

“Mhmm,” he groans, pulling her closer and quickly going back to sleep.

She didn’t know how adorable he could be.

*

For the second time today, Kate wakes up on the couch. The only thing missing this time, and the thing that made it so great, is Finn. He’s gone. Of course, irrational thoughts begin to fill Kate’s mind, but they all fly out the window the second she smells something delicious.

Cooking. Finn is cooking. For Kate.

She likes him even more now.

“Hey,” she says, standing up to get his attention. She walks over to the kitchen and sits down in one of the chairs, pulling the blanket tight against herself. She watches as he smiles nervously and fiddles with her own hair, trying to get rid of that morning look.

“Your hair looks fine,” Finn voices, quickly turning back around to flip a pancake. Which somehow, he knows to be Kate’s favorite.

She drops her hands, opting to watch his behavior instead. He just complimented her, and from what she can see, the tips of his ears appear to be turning red. Holy crap.

Kate thanks him quietly, almost forgetting to respond at first.

“I made you pancakes,” he tells her, setting a plate down in front of her. It looks absolutely delicious. He even remembered the powdered sugar on top. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says shyly, pulling at the sleeves on her sweatshirt. Not her sweatshirt, Finn’s sweatshirt.

Finn’s sweatshirt.

She’s eating a breakfast that Finn made for her, in Finn’s sweatshirt, after spending the night cuddling with him on the couch.

It’s like a dream come true.

“I wanted to though.”

She smiles again, not quite knowing what to do, and clanks her glass of juice against Finn’s before digging in. Well, the polite version of digging in while eating with the boy that you like.