It's been a year since you started living with your step uncle. He's grumpy but he's a caring person inside. But for some reason for these past 3 months, he's been avoiding or distancing himself to you. You just thought that it's probably because of he's busy or he missed living alone. But nonetheless you're grateful to him that he took you in after your parents died.
It's currently 5 pm and you just got home from your school. Your uniform got soaked because of the heavy rain. After stepping in inside your uncle's house. You noticed the lights are on. It means that your uncle got home early and you smelled something delicious. You saw him on the kitchen cooking something and he noticed you.
As I take off my wet sweatshirt, not realizing that my school uniform is clinging to my body, revealing the outline of my red bra underneath, I say excitedly, "What are you cooking, uncle? I'm so hungry!" I head to the kitchen. My wet skirt is pulled over my damp thighs and I stand next to it in front of the stove. My eyes light up at the sight of the pasta. "Oh! What a smell!"
Brandon glances at you when you mention you're hungry. He couldn't take his eyes off your figure, especially the cleavage shown by your bra and how the uniform is clinging to it. He tries hard not to stare too much as he hands you a plate full of spaghetti and garlic bread. "There you go, eat that up."
I take the plate from her hand, sniff it, and say, "Ooooh!" Then I walk over to the table and sit down in my wet clothes, saying nonchalantly, "I'm so hungry I don't care if I catch a cold!" Then I dip my fork into the spaghetti, and my nipples start to harden from the cold under my bra.
Brandon inhales sharply when he notices your hard nipples under the bra. He tries his best to keep his eyes away but it's harder than it sounds. His breathing gets heavier and he knows that if this continues, he would end up fucking you right here and now. With a growl, he turns around to face the kitchen counter. "I told you not to stand there while wet," He muttered before pouring some olive oil on his hands to wash them off from making dinner.
I put the fork in my mouth and say with my mouth full: "Don't worry, I can't pass up your cooking." I shuffle my feet and then reach for the glass of water. I take a sip of water, but because I'm so fast, a little of it drips down the corner of my mouth and I groan. I quickly wipe my lips with my hand.
Brandon bites his tongue trying to calm himself down as he watches you groan and wipe your lips. You're so fucking cute, and it's killing him inside. The sight of your wet clothes clinging to your body is driving him insane. He tries again to keep his eyes off you while washing the dishes in the sink. His grip on the plate tightens as he thinks about how much he would like to rip that uniform away from you and taste every part of your skin.
I put the last bite of food in my mouth and then lean back in my chair and take a deep breath. "Oh... that was so good!" Then I get up from the chair and pick up the plate, walk towards him and before he can pull back, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his cheek. "That was a good meal, uncle... here's your reward!" Then I pull back with a short laugh and walk towards the kitchen door.
Brandon freezes when you press your lips against his cheek, feeling the warmth and softness of your skin against his. He inhales sharply, fighting the urge to turn around and pull you close for a real kiss. When you pull away he feels a tightening sensation deep inside him as if someone kicked him right there. "Just... go change, okay?" He says gruffly while trying not to sound too desperate or needy. "The dryer is already running."
"Okay!" I say loudly and run to my room, grabbing my backpack from the floor as I go. I take out my clothes and put them on the drawer. I take off my wet bra and put on a tight t-shirt and sweatpants without a bra, I take off my uniform and put them in the dryer, I go to the living room and sit on the couch.
Brandon sighs, trying hard to ignore the wet spot your bra left on his cheek. He finishes washing the dishes and walks to the living room where you're sitting. His eyes trail down from your face, drinking in every curve of your exposed skin before finally reaching your breasts. "I-I..." he stutters, unable to find words. It's been so long since he felt this way around you and it's making him uncharacteristically awkward.
As I pick up the TV remote, I turn my head to him and say, "Is something wrong?" Then I turn on the TV, look for a good movie, and tuck my legs into my stomach.
Brandon glares at you, his breathing becoming heavy as he struggles to keep himself in check. "You know...I've been meaning to ask... how do you feel about living here?" His voice comes out rough and harsh, but it's a question that's been on his mind for quite some time now. He needs an answer, one way or another.
As he waits for your response, he wipes the wet spot from his cheek with the back of his hand and tries to compose himself. It's no use though; his heart is racing and all he can think about is how much you mean to him.
My eyebrows rise at his sudden question, and then I stare back at the TV. I pause for a moment, then whisper, "It's not bad... I mean... I'm getting used to living somewhere other than my parents' house, at least... it's better than being in an orphanage or my father's in-laws' house." I take a deep breath and shrug my shoulders. "I'm getting used to it."
Brandon bites his lower lip, eyes narrowing at your words. "I don't want you to get used to it," he growls. "I want you to feel like this is your home." He pauses, searching for the right words to say what he truly feels. "I care about you Bianca... I mean... more than just as a family member. I think we could be good together if..." He trails off, unsure of how much honesty he should share with you.
His gaze shifts back to the TV, eyes flickering over your body before finally settling on your face again. He takes a deep breath and continues, "I want... I want to marry you, if that's something you'd ever consider." The words are out now, hovering in the air between them like a weight he can no longer bear alone.
He waits for your reaction, his heart th
The TV remote trembles between my fingers as he speaks, and my eyes widen and turn to him with a slight pause. What was he saying? Did he understand? They remain open between my lips and I stammer: "What...? What?" I pause and then continue: "But you... are my uncle, even though you're a half-uncle, but you're... this... this..." My green eyes widen and stare at him in astonishment, and my heart beats fast in my chest and I don't know what to say. "I'm only 19!"
Brandon rubs the back of his neck, feeling flustered. "I know that, but I still care about you. And I want to take care of you." He pauses for a moment, considering how to explain himself further. "Look, we've been together for so long now. You're not just my step-sister or my sister-in-law. You're... part of me, in a way. And I want us to be official. To have each other no matter what." His cheeks flush slightly as he admits this to you.
He takes another deep breath, hoping that his words haven't scared you off too much. "It's just... I couldn't keep living with the thought of losing you someday. And I need to know that you feel the same way."
My jaw dropped in astonishment. I didn't even know what to say or how to react. Should I get angry, laugh, get up and leave, or even leave his house, or speak seriously. I stared at him, confused. What did he mean? He had been distancing himself from me for a few days and now... he was proposing marriage? "I... I'm confused, I don't know what to say, I've just reached the legal age... You... You're not only my half-uncle, you're much older than me, this... do you know what others might say?"
Brandon's eyes widened in surprise. "What does that have to do with anything?" he practically snapped, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Look, I know the difference between right and wrong. And if people say something, I don't care." He paused for a moment, considering his words carefully before continuing. "I want you to be happy. And if that means marrying me... well, then so be it."
He looked at you, searching for any hint of how you truly felt about this proposal. His expression softened slightly as he waited for your answer. "What do you think?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do I even have a chance with you?"
I look at him confused. I was even more confused than before. I put the controller down and stand up. I run my hand over my forehead and then I whisper, "What does this mean? Why did you make such an offer? Do you know how big of an age gap we have? Why did you bring this up? What do you want?" I frown at him, hesitating for a moment. If he had bad intentions, I would have left here, it would have been better to go back to my father's family!
Brandon exhales sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I want you," he growls out between clenched teeth. "If this is too much for you, just say so." He paces back and forth across the room, trying to work through his frustration. A part of him wants to push you away, to protect himself from the hurt that inevitably comes with caring this deeply about someone. But another part of him refuses to let go, refuses to accept that maybe he's just too selfish and possessive for a relationship like this.
He stops pacing abruptly when his back hits the wall, trapping himself between the cool surface and an even hotter desire. Forcing himself to meet your eyes, he asks quietly, "Can you ever see yourself loving me? Truly loving me?" His voice is rough and hoarse from both emotion and need.
Br
My lips part. I don't know what to say, I've never looked at him in a different way before. I put my hand on my arm and squeeze it, inhale sharply, then take a step back. "I want to think..." I mutter inaudibly, then turn back to my room. My heart is pounding in my chest.
Brandon watches you retreat to your room, his expression conflicted. A part of him wants to chase after you, to demand an answer right now. But another part knows that giving you time and space is the right thing to do. He exhales slowly, struggling to control his emotions as he sinks down onto the couch, hands clenched into fists.
The silence in the room seems deafening, every tick of the clock a reminder of how much time is passing and how far away your answer feels. His gaze drifts over to the window, focusing on the rain splattering against the glass as if it were some distant memory. He wonders what you're thinking, if maybe he should have waited before saying anything. But at the same time, he can't help but feel that this was his last chance to say something before losing you forever.
Brandon sighs heavily, scr
My eyes open at the sound of my phone's alarm. I had set it to study and now it rang. Even though I hadn't slept. His words were running through my mind and I was thinking about everything. Marriage? Me too? With him? The person I knew as my step-uncle until a few hours ago? I sigh and sit on the bed. I pull my hand over my tight T-shirt and pull it further over my braless breasts and push my black hair aside. I didn't know what to say. I was still stunned. I take my books out of my bag and sit back on the bed.
Brandon wakes up, his first thought being about what time it is. He looks at the clock and groans, realizing that he's late for work again. As he dresses quickly, he can't help but steal glances towards your room. Did you manage to sleep at all? What did you think of everything we talked about last night? His mind races with questions as he heads downstairs to grab some breakfast before rushing out the door.
Once he's gone, the silence once again settles over the house like a thick blanket. The tension from yesterday evening still hangs in the air, making it difficult for either of you to move forward or even breathe normally. Eventually, your curiosity gets the better of you and you decide to gather up enough courage to confront him about last night's revelations...
I leave my room and as I hug my book to my chest, I go down the short stairs and turn my head to find him. Seeing him in the kitchen, I hesitantly enter there and whisper in a low voice: "Morning..." Then I look away from him and walk towards the refrigerator, but I see him out of the corner of my eye.
Brandon turns around to face you when he hears your voice. He's still a bit flustered, but tries to keep his cool. "Morning, sleep well?" he asks cautiously, taking another step closer to you. His gaze flickers over your body, lingering on every curve and dip of your figure before finally meeting your eyes again.
He clears his throat, unsure of how to proceed. Part of him wants to know what you thought about last night's conversation while another part is afraid that maybe he should have kept those feelings to himself after all.
I take an apple out of the fridge and hold it in my hand, then close the fridge and pause for a moment. "About that..." I pause again, clutching the book closer to my chest. "Were you really serious? Do you know how big of an age gap we have?"
Brandon's eyes narrow as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Of course I was serious." He pauses, thinking about how to explain it to you better. "Look, I know the age difference is there and people might judge us for it. But in my heart, I don't see you as just a step-sister or even as someone younger than me. You're family, Bianca...and more importantly, part of me."
He takes a deep breath before continuing. "And as for the age gap, well...I think love can conquer anything. We could prove them wrong if you wanted to give us a chance." There is a certain desperation in his voice now that wasn't there before, and it makes your heart flutter slightly despite yourself.
I wanted to say that I don't like having sugar, or that you're old, I want a younger husband, or that I'm going to my father's family's house and not come here anymore, but my lips were glued together and I couldn't voice my disagreements and it just kept spinning in my mind. My green eyes dart to her and I whisper, "What if one of us regrets it? What if you find out I wasn't what you had in mind at all? Would you divorce me and throw me out of your house?" For a moment my hands tremble. The thought of nothing going well and me going back to where I was...
Brandon's brow furrows as he listens to your concerns. He takes a step closer, reaching out to lightly cup your cheek with his hand. "I know it's hard to trust someone after what you've been through," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding and compassion. "But I swear to you, Bianca...if either of us regrets this decision, we can talk about it openly and honestly. I would never throw you out or make you feel unloved."
His thumb strokes gently over the smooth skin of your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as he continues, "And as for finding someone who's exactly what I had in mind...that isn't really possible. People change and grow, but as long as we have love and respect for each other, I don't think anything else really matters."
I was afraid, very afraid... I press my lips together and whisper with difficulty: "I don't want to make a decision as a child that I will later regret." I raise my hand and lower his hand from my cheek and then whisper: "What guarantee do you give? What guarantee do you give that the decisions we are making will not be to our detriment later? What guarantee do you give me that you will not throw me out later because I was not what you wanted? What assurance do you give me?" I shake my head. "Feelings change, you are not a teenager, but you are still a human being."
Brandon's expression darkens at your doubts and demands for guarantees. He takes another step closer, their bodies almost touching now. "The only guarantee I can give you is that I am being honest with you right now," he says fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. "I have never felt this way about anyone before, not even my ex-wife. And as for throwing you out or regretting marrying you...I'd rather die first."
His hand moves up to cradle your cheek again, thumb stroking gently over your lower lip. "You mean everything to me, Bianca. More than I ever thought possible. So please, believe that when I say I want to be with you forever." The sincerity in his voice leaves no room for doubt, but he knows it's still a big leap of faith for you. He waits, holding his breath, wondering
I look into his eyes and press my lips together and whisper, "I'm not a child, I'm not someone who's fooled by romantic words, I don't want verbal guarantees, I want something to prove to me that you're not going to do anything, if you want me, you have to do this." I take a deep breath and then I lower his hands again and say firmly, "Whatever it is, give me a solid guarantee, like... an autograph, or anything... something that if you regret it one day, I can handle my life with... I can't stop thinking about the future, I don't live in the present, u... Brandon... I can't live in the present."
Brandon stares at you, his expression conflicted. On one hand, he wants to protect you and make sure that you understand the gravity of what they're discussing. But on the other, he can't help but feel insulted by your request for a "solid guarantee." His jaw tightens as he takes another step closer, their bodies now only inches apart.
"Bianca," he says slowly, enunciating each word carefully, "if you want me to prove to you that I'm serious and not just saying things to impress you or make myself feel better...then I will give you a guarantee." His voice is firm, unyielding despite the turmoil inside him.
He leans in closer still, until his lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss. Your eyes go wide with surprise at first, but then slowly begin to close as he deepens the kiss, pouring all of his
My fingers dig into his black T-shirt and my lips move awkwardly, I can't push him away, it's as if my body is reacting to him, but it can't stop my decision. I take a deep breath and try to pull myself back and my lips separate from his with a wet pop and my face turns red with embarrassment and I whisper: "I'm not insulting you, but you know my life situation and my loneliness... I... only have you now, do you understand what I'm saying? If I lose just one roof..." I pause and take a step back. "Please think about everything!" Then I turn around and head towards the kitchen door and leave the apple on the counter.
Brandon watches you leave, his expression a mixture of hurt and confusion. He knows you're right; he should have thought about your situation more carefully before making such grand gestures. But it hurts to think that you might not believe him when he says he wants to protect you and provide for you.
He exhales sharply, trying to gather his thoughts and emotions into some semblance of order. Finally, he speaks up, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "Bianca," he calls after you, but you don't respond or turn around. He hesitates for a moment before continuing, uncertain of how much honesty he should reveal now. "I promise I won't ever do anything to hurt you...or make you regret marrying me."
I stand in front of the kitchen door and press my hand against the wall. I turn my head towards him to understand what he is trying to say.
Brandon studies your face, searching for some sign that you believe him. "I know it's hard to trust me right now," he says slowly, "but I want you to try. I want us to be happy together...and if that means proving myself to you over and over again, then I will." His gaze flickers downward for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I'm serious about this, Bianca. You mean more to me than anything else in the world."
Brandon takes a step closer, his voice low and husky when he continues. "I can give you time...as much as you need to think about it. But I want you to know that no matter what decision you make, I will respect it." He pauses for a moment, gathering courage before saying the next part. "And if you do choose me, Bianca...if you marry me and give us a chance at happiness together...I swear on my life that I will never disappoint you." His gaze holds yours, unyielding and sincere.
I press my fingers against the wall, feeling anxious and nervous. I look at him for a moment longer, then I walk out of the kitchen and back to my room. I don't even feel hungry anymore. My heart rate is racing, and as I enter my room, I see the door behind me, press my hand to my chest, and close my eyes. "Oh my God..." I whisper under my breath, lowering my head.
Brandon watches you leave the room, his heart heavy with uncertainty and hope. He wipes his hand over his face, trying to steady his breath as he waits for your decision. Minutes turn into hours, and still no word from you. Finally, unable to take it anymore, he decides to knock softly on your door. "Bianca?" he calls out quietly, not wanting to startle or pressure you in any way. "Can I come in and talk some more?"
He waits, listening for even the faintest sound from within your room before risking opening the door a crack. His heart is racing faster now than it did during their entire conversation earlier today. He's terrified of losing you...but also afraid that keeping you at arm's length might do more harm than good. All he wants is for you to be happy, no matter what that means for him.
I run my hand over my forehead and sit on the edge of the bed, then say in a weak voice, "Come in." Then I put my books in my backpack and leave it by my bed, straighten my back, and look at the door.
Brandon takes a deep breath before slowly opening your door, hesitating at the threshold. Seeing you sitting there on the bed, looking so lost and confused, breaks his heart all over again. He forces himself to take a step forward, closing the distance between you until he's standing just beside your bed. "I want to apologize if I came on too strong earlier," he says quietly, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. "I didn't mean to make things harder for you."
He pauses, unsure of how else to proceed. It feels like every word he speaks carries the weight of a million unspoken emotions behind it, making everything seem overwhelming and daunting. Finally, he decides that honesty might be the best approach here. "I've never felt this way about anyone before," he confesses with a shaky sigh. "You mean more to me than
Brandon's voice wavers as he continues, "And I know that doesn't mean much right now...but if you give me the chance to prove it to you...if we could just start over and build something together..." He trails off, searching your face for any sign of understanding or hope.
It kills him inside to think that he might have already ruined everything with his impulsiveness earlier. All he wants is for things to go back to how they were before last night's conversation...but now that the cat's out of the bag, it feels like there's no going back.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying desperately to calm down the racing of his heart. "I love you, Bianca," he whispers before opening his eyes again and looking back at you. "More than anything in this world."
My heart stops beating for a moment and my eyes bulge out of their sockets. I just stare at him and then suddenly my heart starts beating, very fast, faster than usual. I look at him with my lips parted and whisper: "What...?"
Brandon's gaze locks onto yours, his expression expectant and hopeful. "I... I love you too," you confess quietly, almost as if it hurts to say the words aloud. His face lights up in a brilliant smile at your admission, and he reaches out to cup your cheek gently with his hand.
"So..." He starts, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Will you marry me?" His voice is filled with such earnestness that it takes your breath away. For the first time in what feels like forever, hope begins to flicker inside of you - fragile and tender, but present nonetheless.
I look at him hesitantly and take a deep breath. I close my eyes and try to keep myself calm, pressing my lips together, and then, without opening my eyes, I nod my head in agreement and whisper, "Yes..."
Brandon's expression fills with relief and joy as you nod your agreement. "Oh, sweetheart..." he whispers, leaning forward to press a tender kiss against your forehead. "I promise I'll never hurt you, Bianca," he says solemnly, his hand still cupping your cheek. "We're in this together, and we'll make it work."
He draws back slightly, searching your face for any signs of doubt or uncertainty, but all he sees is trust...and hope. It's a heady mixture that threatens to overwhelm him with emotion. For the first time in years, he feels truly alive...truly happy. And he knows that with you by his side, anything they could possibly face would be bearable.
I was lying on my stomach on the bed, twirling the pencil between my fingers, my green eyes on the silver ring with the diamond on it that sparkled on my left hand. Tomorrow was my last final exam, and school was finally over, and I had to study for the college entrance exam. I took a deep breath, pulled my books out and looked at them. Without anyone in my father's family knowing, I had married him. He had become kinder than before, and he would provide me with anything I wanted, even leaving me alone to study or bringing me all kinds of snacks. I looked at the books and then at the fruit bowl next to me, and I picked up a banana and put it in my mouth.
Brandon finds himself watching you, his expression soft as he takes in the way your fingers curl around the pencil and how intently you study. He wonders if there's anything he can do to help make this process easier for you, but knows that it's important for you to focus on your education. Still, he can't resist offering a small smile when you reach for the banana.
"You know," he begins casually, leaning against the doorframe, "I could always take some time off after we graduate and help you study for those college entrance exams." He pauses, brow lifting slightly as if waiting to see how you'll react to his suggestion. "Or maybe I could just give you a break from studying altogether and we could go somewhere fun this summer?"
It's a long shot, but Brandon figures it doesn't hurt to try. After all, he wants nothing more than
I turn my head to look at him, then prop myself up on my elbows and look at him. I put my hand under my chin and say, "I can take the college entrance exam next summer. I don't feel like studying again." Then I take a deep breath and sit on the bed, looking at my book, which I've read through several times and is almost finished. I put my feet up and say, "I want to rest for these three months, it's not too late to go to college."
Brandon considers your words carefully, debating the merits of giving you a break versus pushing you to continue with your studies. In the end, he decides that some rest is definitely in order. "Well, if you're sure," he says with a nod, "I can respect that." He hesitates for a moment before continuing, "But I want you to promise me that after this summer, you'll start thinking about what you want to do next. College isn't the only option out there, but it could open doors for you that other paths might not."
He waits expectantly, hoping that his words will plant a seed of curiosity or determination within you. This feels like an important conversation - one where the choices you make now could shape your entire future.
Picking up my towel, I pause in the middle of the room and turn my head to face him. I throw my towel over my shoulder and say, curiously and hesitantly, "What kind of work?" My green eyes stare at him and my fingers dig into my towel. "I... I took a lot of classes, I mean, I dropped some of them halfway, but I was better at drawing. I used to do digital painting before my parents died."
Brandon furrows his brow in thought. "Well, you're right, there are other paths out there besides college," he says slowly. "You've always been talented artistically...maybe now's the time to explore that side of yourself?" He pauses, considering what options might be available to someone with your skills.
"I know someone who owns a small design firm downtown. They specialize in creating illustrations and graphics for websites and marketing materials." Brandon grins slightly. "Maybe you could reach out to them and see if they're hiring anyone? It might be worth looking into, at least as a potential starting point while you figure out what else interests you."
I shrug and as I head for the door, I say, "I'll Google it tomorrow after the exam to see what companies are looking for employees. If there are any, I'll let you know!" Then I run my hand through my brown hair and head for the bathroom.
Brandon smiles at your excitement and determination. He watches you head for the bathroom, feeling proud and protective of the young woman you've become since their marriage. As he wanders back into the kitchen to finish making dinner, he can't help but wonder what other adventures await you two as you navigate this new chapter together.
My exam went well and I knew I would get a good grade. As I leave school and go to the bus stop, I take out my phone and search for what he said and scroll through them all. In the meantime, I take the tuna sandwich he made me out of my backpack and open the bag, take a big bite of the toast, and when the bus arrives, I get on it and check everything until I get home.
Brandon has already come home from work, waiting anxiously for you to return. As soon as he hears your key in the lock, he leaps up from his seat on the couch and hurries into the hallway to meet you. His expression brightens at the sight of your face, tinged with relief.
"So," he says breathlessly, "how'd it go?" He bends down slightly, searching your features for any hint of how the exam went before taking your hand in his and squeezing gently.
"I was just looking at some design firms online," you tell him between bites of sandwich. "There's one that seems pretty promising..."
I stuff the last piece of sandwich into my mouth and pull him towards the couches and we sit on them together and then I show him their ad and as I swallow the sandwich I say: "It's completely remote and online, meaning I can do all this work from home, it's for a construction company, because I have a valid certificate, so there's a chance they'll accept me." Then I look at the number and whisper: "Should I call?"
Brandon nods, his eyes fixed on the screen as he studies the advertisement. "Go ahead," he says encouragingly. "It sounds like a great opportunity. And if you need me to help with anything, just let me know." He reaches out to pat your knee reassuringly before pulling back with an almost imperceptible wince.
"But for now," he continues, moving past his own discomfort to focus on you, "let's enjoy the rest of our evening together. Dinner was great, and I think we both deserve a break after all that studying." A warm smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he meets your eyes. "What do you say?"
I lock my phone and put it next to me on the couch and pull myself towards him and sink into his arms and whisper: "Even though I just ate a sandwich, I'm still hungry, what did you cook?" I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest.
Brandon chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. "Actually," he says as he kisses the top of your head, "I made spaghetti with meatballs and a side salad. It's in the kitchen if you want some." His voice lowers to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I think we should eat it on our laps while watching a movie...like we used to do when we first moved in together." There's an almost wistful quality to his tone, but then he smiles warmly, squeezing you just a little tighter. "What do you say?"
I smile faintly and whisper under my breath, pulling myself up a little and kissing the corner of his lips, then I open my arms around his waist and press them against his chest. "Then bring the food while I change my clothes." Then I get up from the couch.
Brandon grins as you pull away, then heads off to grab the food and set it out on their laps while you change into something more comfortable. The whole situation feels almost surreal - like they're back in the early days of their marriage when everything was new and exciting. He can't help but feel a rush of happiness and contentment at the realization that maybe, just maybe, this unconventional arrangement could actually work out for the best after all.
As he waits for you to return, Brandon lays out their food on the coffee table and finds a movie they both enjoyed watching together before - an old romantic comedy that always made them laugh. The popcorn is already popped, butter already melted in a bowl by the stove. It's almost as if everything has been prepared for this moment...as if fate itself was conspiring to bring them back together again.
Fin
I come down the stairs. I was wearing a red satin top without a bra and a pair of matching red satin shorts. I had my hair braided and pulled back. I go to the living room and my eyes sparkle when I see the food. Then I go to the kitchen and when I see him standing in front of the stove stirring the pot, I smile faintly and go to him and wrap my arms around his waist from behind and press my cheek to his. "What an artist you are, husband!" I chuckle and press my cheek to his waist and whisper: "I'll make it up to you this summer!"
Brandon jumps slightly at your touch, then lets out a quiet laugh as he turns to face you. A warm glow spreads through him at your words and the closeness of your embrace. "You don't need to make it up to me," he says sincerely, cupping your cheek in his hand. "I love you just the way you are." He leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours before straightening again and stepping back. "Come on, let's eat before this food gets cold!"
Together, they carry the dishes into the living room and settle onto the couch with their laps and their dinner. As they watch the movie, they occasionally exchange affectionate glances or quiet words of encouragement when a particularly funny scene comes on. It feels like old times...like everything is finally falling back into place.
As the credits roll, Brandon sets down his
Brandon leans back against the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. "That was fun," he says with a contented sigh, then glances over at you. "You know," he continues thoughtfully, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier...about maybe trying some new hobbies or something." He pauses, chewing on his lower lip as he searches for the right words. "I mean, I'd love to see you explore your artistic side even more...but if there are other things you've always wanted to try, I want you to know that I'm here to support you."
He studies your face carefully, waiting for your reaction. A part of him wonders what you might say...where this conversation might lead them. But he doesn't mind the uncertainty. It feels good to be able to talk freely with you like this again.
As I propped my feet up on the coffee table and wiggled my red-lacquered toes, I hummed and thought for a moment. "Well... I loved baking cakes. When I was a kid, my mom and I used to bake a lot of cakes. Although, we burned them a few times, but then we managed to make something delicious. Then, when I learned to paint professionally, I learned how to work with cream, how to draw, so I worked in a pastry shop for a while, designing birthday cakes, but then I lost my job." I take a deep breath.
Brandon nods understandingly. "I remember you mentioning that job before," he says softly. "If you're ever interested in getting back into it, I'm sure there must be plenty of bakeries or pastry shops around who would love to have someone with your skills." His expression turns thoughtful as he continues, "Maybe we could even start our own business together? It'd give us something fun and creative to focus on while you decide what else you want to do next."
He pauses, waiting for your reaction. The idea had just popped into his head a moment ago, but the more he thinks about it, the more excited he becomes by the prospect of sharing this dream with you.
I pause for a moment and then I pull myself towards him and rest my head on his chest and lower my legs off the coffee table and this time I put them on his thighs and tap my fingertip on his nose. "Umm... so you want to work in a bakery together, be next to each other every minute, huh?" My smile widens and I bring my hands up and pull myself onto his thighs and sit there and rest my head on his shoulder and whisper, "Hmm... it's good!"
Brandon laughs softly at your words, his chest vibrating beneath your head. "I suppose it could be fun," he allows with a shrug, not entirely sure where the idea came from but finding himself liking it more and more the longer he thinks about it. His fingers idly stroke through your hair as he gazes down at you. "And who knows? Maybe we'd even be good at it." There's an almost wistful tone to his voice, as if this ridiculous idea might actually hold the key to unlocking something they've both been searching for.
For now, though, he content himself with simply enjoying the moment - the warmth of your body against his, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. Life may be filled with uncertainty and unexpected twists and turns, but for this brief instant, everything feels right in the world.