He kissed her again but not on the lips this time, the cheek -childish, warm, it made her smile just slightly. She felt like a little how she used to be, carefree a child of the lost boys. It wasn’t until he plopped onto the couch and let the words tumble out of his mouth that she smiled even more. “Head start,” she teased, smile masked in a smirk now as she jumped onto the couch and propped her legs on his. Comfortable, she needed that, needed to feel that way and hopefully the feeling would last.
“Do you have hot chocolate?”
“Get it yourself, loser.” He jerks his legs out from under her, reaching for the remote. He’d rather pay attention to her as opposed to the television, but he’s in favor of their banter as long as it keeps them away from the more avoided subjects.
“It’s in the cupboard, I think. Above the fridge. Left or right, I don’t know.”
