Don't Remind Me (Book 2)

-12-

I was back at the Ro'Meave's. The house towered over me, making me feel extremely small. Vylad and Zane were apparently already inside, so they were just waiting on us. But I felt like I couldn't move. My father was in there. It all felt so surreal. I clutched the bottle of wine I brought tightly. Garroth nudged me with his shoulder. "You good?"

"Fine." My voice squeaked.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do this, you know."

"No... No, I want to." I shook myself off and took a step forward. "Let's do this."

He let ourselves in. "Hello, mom?"

"Gar Gar!" His mother, a sweet looking lady with green eyes and dark hair streaked with gray, can running around the corner wearing an flowery apron lightly dusted with flour. She threw herself over to him and gave him a huge hug. "Oh, sweetie! How are you?"

"Good, mummy, thank you." He hugged her back and gave her a comforting smile.

She gave him a look over. "You've lost weight. Are you eating enough, Gar Gar?"

"I'm eating plenty. I've just been working out more."

"Good. I don't want you to get sick or anything." She turned her attention to me. "And you must be Leona!" She gave me a hug, too. "It's so nice to finally meet you!"

"You, too, Mrs.Ro'Meave!" I felt my face get a little warm. My family was almost never this touchy feely. It was nice, though. "Thanks for having me!"

She pulled back and grabbed my hands. "Oh! Of course! Please, call me Zianna! I've been wanting to meet Garroth's girlfriend for a long time now!"

"O-oh! He's not-" I looked over at Garroth. "We're not-"

"Mummy! We're not a couple. She's just a friend."

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I misunderstood. Anyways, come on in!"

"It's totally okay!" I followed her back to the kitchen. "Also I brought some wine, if you all like it."

She took it from me, beaming. "Perfect!"

"Do you need any help?"

"No! Please, go sit with the others. It'll be ready soon!"

I gladly did what she said. I personally hate making stuff in the kitchen. At least I do now...

Flashback

It was his senior year and my junior year. My family was gone for the evening for one of my brother's soccer games, so Laurance decided to surprise me with a homemade dinner. 

"Are you supposed to be doing it like that?" I narrowed my eyes in mock judgement.

He stood in my kitchen wearing my dad's rufflely apron, one hand on his hip, the other sassily holding a wooden spoon. "It's not that hard to stir a pot."

"Hmm... if you say so." I leaned on my elbows on the kitchen counter. "I just don't think it's supposed to look like that."

"If you don't think it looks right, then you help." He shoved the spoon at me in a fake rage.

"Fine. Maybe I will." I plucked it from his hand, lightly brushing his finger. I stood in front of the pot and started stirring it for a few seconds.

I felt his presence over my shoulder. "Hmm-"

"This is how it's supposed to look, asshole."

"Language." He poked my in my side.

"Says you!" I turned and faced him, inches between us.