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“White for you, red for me,” Melissa smiles, setting the wine glasses down on the coffee table. She takes in the sight of you curled up on her couch, wrapped up in a blanket. Her smile gets wider.
“I still don’t know why you refuse to compromise,” you smirk up at her, “‘rosé would be fine with me. Then you wouldn’t have to buy two bottles.”
Scoffing, Melissa drops onto the couch beside you. “Rosé is an abomination and you know it.” She takes a gulp of her pinot and pats your thigh. “Are you gonna set the game up or am I gonna stare at the blank screen until the pizza comes?”
“Tsk, tsk, Schemmenti,” your eyes roll as you reach for the remote. “Excited to lose? Or have you been practicing without me?” The tv clicks on and you load up the game.
“Schemmentis don’t lose, hon,” she presses a kiss to your forehead and chooses her character. Bowser, thank you very much .
“How come you don’t win at Mario Kart then?” Melissa grumbles at you and you laugh. “I’ll even let you pick the course.”
‘Fine,” she over-exaggerates her sigh, “moo moo meadows it is.” She watches you while you start the race.
Honestly, Melissa isn’t sure how you roped her into starting game nights. She’s known for being incredibly competitive, sometimes it scares people off so she tries not to play games with significant others. Who wants to be with someone that needs to win games all the time, especially when it has the potential to bleed into arguments? No one wants a relationship with a person who's unable to compromise or be wrong.
Melissa’s attention is torn from the race when you whoop, “Take that Wario. Little bitch,” as you hit him with a blue shell. There’s a childlike look of wonder and excitement on your face that makes her stomach feel fluttery. Maybe she should have waited to have wine until after eating.
“Mel, 10th place? Are you going to have a heart attack?” You lean in to plant a kiss on her nose. “That’s okay, you’re still first place to me.” She wasn’t even aware that the race had ended.
Somehow, she thinks she's okay with losing to you if it means you keep the smile plastered on your lips. She’d buy some rosé tomorrow.
“Would you still like me if I was a worm?”
She turns to you, startled. There’s no way she heard you correctly, right? But your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips pursed, and she knows you’re being serious. “How do you get to be a worm?”
You look beautiful in the Sunday
morning
afternoon sunshine, she thinks. But you’re absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t know, I made a wizard mad. Does it matter?” The pout you give from the other side of the bed has her hiding a laugh under the blankets.
“And how can I be sure this worm is you and not some other worm?” She asks in mock seriousness, pulling your body closer to hers for more of a snuggle.
Rolling your eyes, you huff like it should be obvious. “I think I’d be the only worm that refuses to leave your side, Mel.” Melissa very clearly imagines a little worm following her all throughout her house, leaving a slimy trail on the hardwood floors.
“Huh. Okay,” she supposes you’re right—no other worm would follow her. “Just don’t get any of your worm juice in my kitchen.”
She can tell by the frown on your face that she didn’t answer how you’d like her to. Maybe this conversation had some sort of deeper meaning to you. She supposes she can give you a more serious answer.
“I’m glad you aren’t a worm because it would be very hard to kiss you. I’m grateful to have you just how you are.” Melissa punctuates her sentences with kisses to both of your cheeks. “So grateful that we can watch whatever movie you want. Even if it’s the Notebook, no matter how stupid it is.” A kiss is given to the tip of your nose.
A grin spreads across your face as you toss the sheets from your body. “Last one to the couch has to get the snacks!” And you’re halfway down the hallway before Melissa can untangle herself from the blankets you’ve practically thrown on her. Still, she chases you as if she has a chance of winning.
Instead of snacks, Melissa cuts up some fruits and places them on a platter along with cheese and crackers. Really, she shouldn’t let you keep her in bed until noon. But if you’re not having breakfast, she’s going to make sure you get something for lunch that isn’t junk food.
She lays on the couch with you spread out on top of her, curled up and resting your cheek to her chest. It’s cozy and warm and she isn’t sure her house has ever felt more like home. She kisses your hair and watches the movie.
You know she needs to keep up her illusion of having a tough persona, so you don’t say a word when she starts crying, you just cuddle closer to her chest and hold her hand.
It isn’t pouring rain and you aren’t making out in a sailboat. She didn’t paint her house blue, but there isn’t anywhere else Melissa would want to be. There aren’t any other dumb conversations she wants to be having or any other stupid movies she wants to watch.
Keys jingle in her hands as she tries to get the front door open with you in her arms, trailing hot kisses along her jaw. You’re making it hard for her to concentrate on actually getting the key into the lock.
Melissa grunts in frustration, pushing you against the door for a rough kiss. She doesn’t let up until both of you are breathless and panting, her lipstick all over your face. “Be a good girl and stay there until I get this door open,” she laughs, finally able to turn the key.
She urges you inside and flips the lock on the door. The next thing you know, your back is against the door once again, a warm mouth on your neck. Shaking off your shoes, you pull her closer to you. Hands grip at the lapels of her leather jacket, tossing it somewhere far away from you.
Hot hands slip under your shirt, sliding it up over your bra. Melissa’s mouth finds its way to the swell of your breast, sucking and biting until a visible mark shows. You tug on her hair until her mouth is finally on yours, tongues tangling.
Pushing off of the door, you both stumble trying to make it past the threshold. Melissa takes the opportunity to release you from your top and unhook your bra. As inpatient as you are, your fingers blindly fiddle with the button of her pants. Her mouth is on your chest once you finally get them open and push them down her legs. They don’t get very far and she falls to the floor, bringing you with her.
Giggles erupt from both of you as you check to make sure the other is okay. Bending your neck, you suck her bottom lip into your mouth and let your teeth sink in. She lets out a sharp gasp as you release her. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmurs, following your mouth for another kiss. Really, it just makes her want you more.
Clothes are strewn across the floor, littering her home from the door to the living room. You don’t make it up off the floor until both of you are sweaty and breathing heavily. Melissa thought her days of floor sex long since passed, she isn’t exactly young anymore. She thinks that maybe you’re her exception to everything.
Smiling, her fingers run through your hair as you both catch your breath. She’s naked on the floor, you on top of her, and she doesn’t think there’s anywhere she would rather be or anything she would rather be doing. Even if her joints scream at her in the morning.
“Come on,” she playfully slaps your ass. “Let’s go shower.” Gleefully, you hop to your feet and hold out a hand to help her up.
“Round two?” You’re asking, leading her to the bathroom so quickly that Melissa struggles a bit to keep up.
“Maybe if you promise not to somehow get soap in my eyes this time.” She’s sure she will end up taking the risk.
“Are you almost ready?” You ask her, hands struggling to get your earring in as you walk to the bathroom to find her. You’re supposed to meet everyone at the bar in less than a half hour.
Melissa turns to look at you, her hand holding the mascara wand freezing in place. You’re stunning in your heels and that tiny top she loves. You bring a smile to her face.
She can see how the night will go. Janine will order everyone to have a few shots to get the party started. Ava will supply you with a few too many drinks, knowing how fun and carefree you can be. You and Jacob will find yourselves on top of a table, struggling to stay upright in your heels, singing some Shania Twain together. Then, you’ll get sleepy and hang all over her until she takes you home. That’s how these nights tend to go.
She wonders if maybe you could skip all that tonight and just stay home. Not that she doesn’t love going out, but she thinks she would rather stay in. Melissa worries her lip in her mouth, deciding whether to ask, and screws the mascara wand back into its container.
“What would you say to ditching our friends and having fun here instead?” She wraps her arms around your waist and gives you a kiss.
“Hmm,” you pretend to think. “I would take off these uncomfortable pants and ask what you had in mind for the night.”
She grins, amazed that you two are always on the same page. “Then I would tell you I have absolutely nothing in mind. Just want to be with you.”
You both end up pantsless on the makeshift bed you put together in front of the couch. Both of you are surrounded with the stash of goodies you’d gotten from raiding the nearby 7/11. Melissa’s tongue is dyed blue from her raspberry slurpee and there are crumbs in her lap from the bag of Doritos she has.
“No, she actually told my kindergartner self that I wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom. Do you know what I did?” You smile and take a bite of a sour gummy worm. Melissa shakes her head in amusement. “I looked her right in the face and said ‘fine. I’ll do it right here.’ And peed my pants.”
Melissa snorts, almost spitting her drink all over the blankets. You’re laughing right there with her. You aren’t even embarrassed about the story, it wasn’t your fault. “She always let me go to the bathroom after that.”
“One time,” Melissa starts, “I tried to play basketball with the older kids in the park. I was convinced I could dunk just as easily as them.” You roll your eyes. Of course she did. “Naturally I had to try to show off, and I face-planted right in front of the hoop. Never showed up there again.” She shakes her head with a mock forlorn expression.
“That’s so you,” you grin. “I wish we knew each other as kids.”
Melissa watches you try hard to get the last remaining sips out of your own slurpee, contemplating your words. She loves sitting here, doing nothing with you, the tv not even turned on. She wishes she could have known you earlier too, for the possibility of having more moments just like this.
Maybe she wants this for the rest of her life.
Her hand reaches out to smooth your hair behind an ear and her voice goes serious. “All I want to have is more time with you,” she searches your eyes before continuing, “I love you.” She doesn’t wait for a response, just cups your jaw and brings your lips to hers.
There’s nothing she’d rather do than nothing with you.