Chapter Text
My birthday had never been my favourite day.
Ever since my dad lost his first job, the hate engraved itself deeper into me, like a forgotten wound.
Today, I sat in front of a birthday cake. The flames from the candles flickered tantalizingly at me. The cake was melted slightly, the red sprinkles muddling the blue cake icing.
The cake was like a beacon of light in the ominous darkness that was my dining room.
Thanks to my horrible birthday luck, my entire neighborhood had experienced a blackout.
So, there I was.
Sitting in complete darkness with a cake in front of me. behind me stood my mother. She stood rigidly, shadows obscured her face. Her usually bright brown eyes looked dull in the candlelight, like the shadows that framed her still face.
"Make a wish, honey." She whispered, her eyes moving unblinkingly across my face.
I felt my cheeks heat up. It felt childish. Part of me thought she was making up for all the forgotten or horrible birthdays from my childhood.
Admittedly, those weren't her fault. Sometimes we didn't have enough money for those type of "extravagant luxuries."
I turned back to the cake, shutting my eyes. My heart thudded softly in my chest, my whole body tensing.
All I could think of was him.
I wanted us to live in peace.
I wanted my mom to love me again.
I wanted to do what I love and love who I love.
I smiled.
I just wanted to run my fingers through his soft hair.
I wanted to comfort him whenever he grew sad or stressed.
I wanted to kiss his tears away and make everything better.
I chuckled as I blew out my candles.
If only birthday wishes came true.
. . .
I sighed, attempting to fix my clothes before I stepped into the dimly lit cafe.
I had just snuck out of my bedroom window, planning to visit... someone.
I'm hereeee
I quickly texted him, my fingers shaking. I honestly don't know why I was so nervous. We had just hung out a couple days before. Nervous birthday jitters maybe.
I exhaled, shaking my head.
Today was really no different than any other night. It's not like we haven't spent time together at night before. I needed to stay calm.
I pushed open the unlocked cafe door, ignoring the 'CLOSED' sign.
"I'll be there in a sec, Cariño!"
I smiled, ambling towards the back of the shop, meeting lit candles and fresh cookies. I blushed, sitting on the corner of the coach.
I listened to the low-playing music as I waited. It was all so... romantic?
Sure, it had been a while since we originally confessed to each other, but it wasn't really official. Our "relationship" seemed to be floating between nothing and something.
I picked at my nails, staring at my watch.
11:26 p.m.
Way past closing time.
"Cariño?"
I grinned, looking up to see him.
He practically glowed in the moonlight. His brown eyes held so much passion. His soft hair was tied up in a ponytail. He held two mugs, filled with something that smelt delicious.
He walked over to me, smiling.
"Hello, Alex."
"Hello, Wilbur." He said playfully, hair falling in front of his eyes. "Gonna lock up real quick."
He placed the mugs on the table. They were filled with my favourite, hot chocolate.
"Can't have anyone breaking in. That'll be the worse way to start a reopening."
I hummed as he walked off.
I reached for my mug, warmth spreading across my fingertips. Sweet smoke wafted into my face, the mouth-watering smell calming me.
In a way, our relationship reminded me a lot of hot chocolate.
Sweet.
Tension between us thick and strong.
Something that would make anyone happy on a cold, bitter day.
But something you could easily mess up.
Overly powerful and sickeningly sweet.
Tooth-rotting.
Vomit inducing.
But, sweet none the less.
Quackity returned.
He had changed compared to how he was a couple months ago.
His skin was soft and full of color. His face didn't hold any eye bags. His eyes seemed cheery and his lips were smooth.
He wore a regular t-shirt. If you squinted hard enough, you could see thin strips that stood out from his skin. They were old. Abandoned.
Almost forgotten.
"So! how are you, huh?" He huffed down on the couch next to me. "I haven't seen you in a bit."
I hummed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. "Everything's been... interesting to say the least. Mom's been going to therapy, for one. I never thought she'd actually... go."
"What you're saying is that she's actually listening to you?" He grabbed his mug, leaning back deeper into the couch.
"Yep."
"So, a lot has changed." He laughed.
I snickered. "I guess... How's your father?" I placed my mug back on the coffee table.
"Eh, pretty good. He's really excited to get back in the store and work, even though the doctors have told him to take it easy." He sighed contently. "He's missed this place almost as much as I have." He leaned into me, his eyes fluttering closed.
The store was quiet.
But that was fine.
Words weren't needed for us to understand what the other felt.
I took his mug away from him, placing it on the table. I rested my head on his, intertwining my hand with his warm hand. They felt soft and clean. His hair smelt like vanilla and cinnamon.
I planted a kiss in his hair absentmindedly, allowing the quietness coat us like a blanket.
Quackity's hand tightened on mine.
"...Cariño?"
I hummed in response, my eyes closing.
"I was thinking... high-school's over. You're 18 now." He fidgeted nervously on the side of me, his hands becoming clammy. "Maybe we could, y'know, move in together? Share our own apartment and stuff."
I opened my eyes, looking at him.
He was scrunching up the bridge of his nose, red spreading across his face like the melted sprinkles on my birthday cake.
"Are you serious?"
Quackity looked offended, sneering. "You think I'm joking? I'm serious, Cariño."
I flushed. "I... I mean that sounds amazing, Quacks. It sounds perfect."
He grinned, relieved. "Good. I was already looking at some good apartments near the college we picked."
He stared up at me, seemingly taking in my face. I was taking in his.
Talking with him was like a breath of fresh air after I've been holding my breath for months. My lifesaver.
His hands cupped my face, bringing me closer to him.
He tasted like hot chocolate and marshmallows.
Cariño wasn't just a nickname anymore.
It is apart of our identity.
It is what makes us us.
Alone we were like dry ingredients and wet ingredients, destined to be combined.
Together we were sweet like honey.
I am his cariño.
And he is mon chéri.
- This isn't the End -
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