“Should this be the last thing I see, I want you to know it’s enough for me, ‘cause all that you are is all that I’ll ever need…”


With the angle of the sun shining directly into the bedroom, Marie scrunched her eyes tighter shut and turned on her side. The oversized t-shirt she was wearing twisted around her body and she pulled at it, trying to adjust it. She was stopped by Marco, who wrapped his arms around her hips and pulled her into him. Marie looked over her shoulder and giggled. She was trying to stay quiet, but Marco peeked past his eyelids, and once Marie was convinced he was awake, she set her head back down on the pillow and held his hand.

Marco scooted his body up closer to hers until they were pressed flush together and then he buried his face in her hair. She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed it softly. And she kept kissing it until he began to stir behind her, placing his lips on her shoulder blade.

“Marco Scandella,” she hummed quietly against his skin.

“Marie Thatcher,”

“I had the most wonderful dream last night.”

He tightened his arm over her hip, “and what was that?”

“I got to spend the entire day in bed with you. I didn’t have school and you didn’t have hockey, and we just got to hang out all day long.”

“And now you’re proposing we do that today,”

Marie nodded and giggled, wiggling her hips against his excitedly. Getting to spend the entire day with Marco would be like a dream come true after not having seen him in a month.

“I’m proposing we spend as much time as possible together before your season starts. That is unless you don’t want to spend time with me.”

Marco lifted his head off the pillow and looked at her as she continued to giggle. He smiled and kissed her softly, and then sat up, rubbing his eyes childishly. “I have practice. But when I get back, we can spend the rest of the day in bed,”

She groaned and rolled onto her back, reaching for Marco’s hand. Of course he had obligations, and she wasn’t trying to keep him from them, but mostly she just wanted to feel like she wasn’t completely alone in Minnesota. At least for awhile, he’d been the only person she knew in the state, and it was petrifying to think about what she’s do when he was on the road.

“What am I supposed to do until you get back?” Marie sat up as Marco got out of bed to retrieve clean clothes for the day.

“Anything you want. I should be home around one, so that gives you a few hours to figure out something.”

“You’re no help,”

Marco smiled and grabbed his wallet off the dresser, then walked back to his bed and leaned over the edge, bending in to kiss Marie quickly. “I know. I’ll be back,” he smiled and opened up his bedroom door and slipped out, only to be completely out of the house within minutes.

Marie looked around the room, and finally glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only half past ten. Figuring practice started at eleven, the next few hours would be just long enough to make her feel at home. And there was nothing that would make her feel more at home than cooking.

She scurried into the kitchen, hoping that for a boy, Marco would have some basic ingredients to throw something together. Luckily, he had a little bit more than a normal college dorm, and after thinking through the things she knew how to make by memory, Marie put her hair up in a messy bun and washed her hands. Mostly the cooking would be for her, because whether or not Marco liked what she made, this would assimilate her in Minnesota.

Wasting no time, Marie pulled out the flour, sugar, vanilla, baking soda and powder, brown sugar, cinnamon, eggs, and oil. The hardest part about it all was trying to find everything she needed in the unfamiliar kitchen. That took the most time, and by the time she finally got her coffee cake into the oven, already an hour had passed. And it’d need almost an hour to bake, so it’d be ready just before Marco walked in through the door.

Then as she was finishing washing the dishes she had used, Marie found a waffle iron stashed away deep in one of the cupboards. She tugged it out and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. Noon. There was time to make waffles too, so why not? She re-found the things she needed, and looked up a recipe on her phone. Now it was really just a waiting game, so instead of moving like a madman through the kitchen, Marie meandered at her own speed.

As she finished up the waffle batter, the smell of her coffee cake wafted through the kitchen. She pulled open the oven door and smiled at the goldenness of the cake. It was ready to cool off and be eaten. With that cooling, she opened up the waffle iron that had been heating up and poured in just enough of the batter to cover the surface. Like Marie had imagined, cooking here made her feel more at home. For a moment, she almost forgot she was in Minnesota and not in New Haven with her mom.

Just as she was caught up in her own rhythm of making the waffles, she heard the front door open. The past two hours had really gotten away from her. Then, when Marie didn’t hear anything at all, she looked up. Marco was standing in the doorway, just staring at her. She giggled and pulled the last waffle out of the iron.

“Look at you being a little housewife,” he smiled and walked into the kitchen. Immediately he went for the coffee cake, and Marie slapped at his hand until he recoiled.

“That’s chef to you,” she retorted and handed him a plate of waffles.

Marco took the plate from her hands and leaned in to kiss her quickly, “thank you.” He grabbed a fork and then sat at the kitchen table, digging into the waffles. “I didn’t know you could cook,”

Marie sat down next to him, bringing along the syrup, and began cutting her waffles into smaller pieces. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’m a very complex person,” she smiled and popped a piece of the waffle into her mouth.

He looked at her and smiled; taking another bite, “tell me about the cooking then.”

“My mom and I used to cook all the time together… she’s a really good baker. She sort of instilled a love of food in me. At one point I actually wanted to have a café, bakery sort of thing, but…”

“You don’t want one anymore?” Marco stood up from the table, and located a knife in order to cut himself a piece of the coffee cake.

“Sometimes I think about it, but I don’t know. The thought of having to borrow money from my dad in order to get it up and running is kind of making me not want it.”

Marco smiled and bent down closer to his plate to have less of a chance of dropping food all over his lap. “Yeah, what’s your dad’s deal? He seems pretty intense,”

Marie raised her eyebrows and nodded, “He’s a doctor… he’s got some kind of God complex. I’m sure that came from Vietnam.”

“He fought?”

“If by fought you mean patched kids up in meatball surgery and sent them back to the front, then yes, he fought.” She pushed her plate away from her and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s intense and he’s kind of a dick, but he’s my dad. And the day my mom realized she could survive without him was probably the best day of her life… and mine.”

Marco didn’t answer right away. In fact, he didn’t really answer at all. Instead he carried his plate to the sink and picked up the plate with the coffee cake on it, and nodded his head towards the door. Marie stood up and followed him out as he sauntered back into his bedroom. While he was preoccupied, she scurried back into the bed, and crawled beneath the blankets. By the time he turned back, the fluffy duvet already shrouded her.

He flung the blanket back and crawled in with her, adjusting the covers to get situated all nice and warm before actually settling in. He turned on his side and looked at her, reaching forward to cup his hand around her neck. Marie reached her hand up and placed it over his.

“I can’t believe this is all you want to do today,” Marco giggled and rubbed his thumb across Marie’s cheek.

She shut her eyes slowly, relaxed by his touch, and when she opened them back up, Marco was still staring at her. She felt herself blush, and scooted up towards him, resting her forehead against his chest. “This makes me happy… Laying here with you. I moved a thousand miles to get in this bed.” Marie pulled her head back and looked at him as his fingers brushed through her hair. “Be honest, do you wish I hadn’t moved?”

“I want you here, and I’m happy you are. I hope you didn’t move just because of me though. You were at an amazing school, and I don’t want…”

“Marco,” she interrupted, placing her hand over his mouth. “There are a ton of reasons why I moved. And while St. Paul probably wouldn’t have been my first choice… or even my tenth… you’re here and I wanted to be closer to you. The idea to move and leave Boston was something I had been thinking about for awhile. You turned out to be the perfect excuse to act on it.”

“What do your parents think about your perfect excuse?”

“They don’t actually know… I told my mom I got an internship out here, and I told my dad I needed a change of scenery.”

Marco groaned and turned onto his back, rubbing his palms over his eyes. “I didn’t want to be your secret motive,”

“You’re not,” she was quick to answer to diffuse the situation as much as she possibly could. Marie sat up and flung her leg over Marco’s body, sitting on his waist with her legs tucked into his sides. “But my dad wouldn’t have helped me leave if he knew I was moving to you.”

“Marie, I don’t want to be a lie you tell your parents.”

“You’re not,” she begged. “What I told my mom was a lie, but what I told my dad wasn’t. I did need a change of scenery, because I’d never be truly happy in Boston, or anywhere close enough for my dad to just pop in to check up on me.” She leaned in and nuzzled against his jaw, “when I said I loved you, I meant it…”

Marco wrapped his arm around to her back and patted it softly, turning his head toward hers. “I meant it too.”

She lifted her head and planted her lips squarely on his as he held either side of her head in his hands. When he pulled away and looked up at her, she felt herself blush, but this time, instead of hiding her face, she was forced to look at Marco as he held her head still.

“I want you to meet some more of the guys,” Marco murmured, lifting his head to touch her lips with his. When Marie began to shake her head, he nodded his in protest, “yes. Tomorrow after practice. You can meet some of the guys, and then we can see how you are on skates.” He planted a string of playful kisses to her neck.

“That’s so intimidating. What if they don’t like me!” She shrieked and pressed her hands into Marco’s chest, aiding in sitting up on his waist. “And are you assuming I’m no good on skates?”

“They’re going to like you, Marie. You’re freaking yourself out over nothing. All the guys will like you; you already know Charlie does.” He giggled as Marie slapped his chest. “And when was the last time you skated?”

Marie rolled her eyes and thought about the last time she had been on ice skates. It took her a moment, but she soon came up with an answer she was confident with, “I was probably like fourteen. So five years ago,”

“So I’m not saying you’re bad… I’m just saying you’re out of practice. And plus if you’re a good girl tomorrow, you’ll get a little surprise,” he winked and cupped her ass in his hands.

“But I don’t want to be a good girl,” she whined and leaned into his lips, brushing hers against his. “I want to be your dirty little whore,”

It was Marco who blushed this time, and he swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed when Marie had caught him off guard with her answer. “If you’re a good girl at the rink, you can be my dirty little whore afterwards, deal?”

“Will you let me suck on your cock?” She batted her eyelashes at him, trying to look innocent and turn him on. Based on what she was sitting on, she felt like it was working. When Marco nodded, she pouted her lips, “promise?” After that, it didn’t take long for him to take her in his arms and kiss her.

Notes

"Tenerife Sea" by Ed Sheeran.