Summer with the Lynches (Raura)

Problems, Cuddling, and Raura

Rocky pov:
I hate little girls. Especially ones named Cindy.
"No pleaseee! Not again!" I cry out in agony. "Please Cindy!"

"No!" She says strictly pulling me by the ear. I'm kneeled at her foot with my hands in a praying like position. That's how bad she's torturing me. "We're doing that again because I like it! Now stop whining like a baby!"

My eyes roll to the back of my head and I almost faint. "But..." I'm almost scared to speak my mind. "Those stairs dig into my chest and it hurts when I go down.. A lot."

A scowl finds its way to her face and her brows furrow in annoyance. "How hard is it to slide down a flight of stairs while I'm sitting on your back!?"

"Impossible actually." I find myself muttering. Stupid little girl. Stupid mom. Stupid cottage. Stupid beach. This is what I get for being nice. If it weren't for Moms' constant "be nice" lectures I would have kicked this girl to the curb hours ago.

Instead I had to go through hours of torture doing whatever it was she wanted. From yelling at a stranger naked, to stealing candy from a baby. You know. It's not as easy as people say...
I have the bruises to prove it.

Well no more nice Rocky. This monster is going down.
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Rydel pov:
"I'm sorry we didn't get to go on that date." My boyfriend says quietly. He runs his thumb over my arm sending shivers up and down my spine.

"It's okay." I say with a smile and snuggle closer. I press my hand against his chest. "Cuddling in bed with you is better. I like your bed. Smells...nice."

"Ha, yeah." He scoffs slightly. "I don't know why but I kind of wish I had Ross and Laura's bunk bed. Is that weird?" He tilts his head down to look at me leaned across his chest.

I play with his fingers for a while before shaking my head. "No. Not at all. Bunk beds are cool. Like my tutu's."

"You don't wear tutu's anymore Delly."

"But I used to." I lift my head up to face his our eyes meeting. Every Time I look at them I can't help but feel lost and yet safe.

"And I love you for it."

I duck my head slightly feeling a soft kiss press to the side of my head. A thin smile makes its way to my face and for once In a very long time, I don't try to conceal it. "Would you still love me if I wore Tutu's?"

"I'd love you if you wore nothing but a paper bag." He has a smug smile on his face. The goofy kind. And at that moment- it's my favourite thing about him.
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Stormie pov:
Are my Veggie Rolls really 'that' bad?
I mean... They can't be 'so' bad my husband's even accusing me of murder; can they?

"Fine. I'll try them again." He sighs. "But just so you know. If anything bad happens... Call for help... And it's all on you."

"You know what, no." I place the roll on the counter and take a seat on the ground. The floor feels cold on my bumb which oddly enough is comforting. At least something's going my way today. "This is pointless Mark. What am I doing? Everyone knows I'm no good at this."

He pats the snot next to me before he sits down. His legs are spread apart and his hands lay slouched in between. "Look. I don't know why we're doing this.. But I do know you're good at this."

"No I'm not. I can't even get a single kid, my own family; to try one without going 'eew' or 'oh. You made rolls again...' Or even my own husband who makes up excuses like 'I'm going to die! Ahh'... How am I supposed to win 1st place if I can't even be number 1 to my own family?"

He doesn't say anything for a while and I'm glad. That speech came out of nowhere and I needed some time to process.

"But you are number 1." He suddenly says. He moves to sit in front of me so I'm forced to look at him. Or at least, some parts of him. When I look down I see his feet so... "You're an amazing mother. The best wife. The most caring person any of us have ever met. You take care of a family of 7- you work your butt off to make EVERYONE happy... I don't know why you don't have an award for supermom of the year."