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Angela lay on her back, staring at the ceiling while Amanda slept beside her.
They've been dating for a few months now, and this is the third or fourth time Amanda has spent the night at her place. The rest of the time, Angela was at Amanda's or drove herself home.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand beside her and checked the time, 8:27 AM. She never woke up at an early hour, and one of her first thoughts was to go back to sleep to cuddle with Amanda some more. Angela turned her head to peer at the woman beside her. Amanda's hair was disheveled, covering a small portion of her face, as she hugged her pillow loosely. Her mouth was slightly open, allowing Angela to listen closely to her soft, consistent breaths. Looking at her made Angela's heart flutter, as if it were the first time she saw her all over again. She didn't want to fall asleep again; she'd prefer just watching Amanda sleep. After a while, Angela reached the arm closest to her to softly brush a piece of hair from her face and turned her body to carefully sit up and walk away from the bed.
She was aware of the creaks in her floorboard and made an effort to walk quietly, even after she gently closed the bedroom door behind her. She made her way to the bathroom to spend a few minutes on her oral hygiene, brushing her teeth. When she was done, Angela leaned backwards, arms half-crossed, on the sink counter. Her lips pursed as she frantically began to think of what she should do next within the next hour or two to satisfy Amanda. Not that Amanda would be disappointed if she chose to do nothing, but Angela wanted to impress her.
After brushing, she walked to the kitchen, pausing in the middle of the tiled floor to continue thinking. She looked around the kitchen as if looking at kitchen appliances would help, but then the most obvious idea clicked.
"Breakfast!" She half-whispered.
Angela made her way to the fridge in her apartment and searched for the basic breakfast items available. She only found eggs and bacon. Taking a deep breath, she contemplated whether she even had the ingredients for a full breakfast. But hope wasn't lost, she peered at her kitchen counter to find a half-eaten loaf of sliced bread and two avocados she bought a few days ago. Smiling now, she took two eggs and the bacon packaging from the fridge and began to prepare.
Knowing that Amanda prefers sunny-side up, she heats the frying pan, pours some oil, and cracks an egg inside. Cracking the second egg, the yolk burst into the pan, oozing from the whites. Angela cursed and turned off the heat. Biting her lip in some frustration, she carried the frying pan to the trash to scrape the not even half-cooked eggs into the garbage. She tried again, relieved when she managed to successfully crack two more eggs into the pan.
"Guess I'll need more eggs sooner than usual," she muttered.
She grabbed seasoning from her cabinet: the casual salt, black pepper, and parsley, not to overdo it, and sprinkled each onto the eggs. When they're just about ready, she brought a plate in advance over to place them in when they’re done. While the eggs are still in the first pan, she reached for another pan from her cabinet to start the bacon, the simplest to make, adding 3 strips to the second frying pan. After that was situated, she grabbed two slices of bread and placed them into her toaster. Waiting for each to finish, she stood back with her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes. She couldn't imagine a world where she was unsatisfied doing this for Amanda, but damn, was it tiring.
While she cut the avocado, she thought ahead to what Amanda might think of her cooking. She knows Amanda won't hate it; her cooking wasn't that awful, but she wonders if what she's doing is sufficient enough. She wondered if she should be doing more for her, and if so, what could she do? Amanda, knowing that Angela has a habit of anxiously worrying for her approval, usually reassures her, either through cooing affirmations or by appearing light-heartedly confused, which makes Angela laugh. Angela smiled at the thought of Amanda comforting her, but swore that she wouldn't need it this time. She could face her fears, which is what she often told herself, and Amanda.
The avocado toast, bacon, and eggs were done. She plated them and placed them on a small glass dining table. Looking at the plate, she deemed it incomplete; it needed a beverage. Making her way to the fridge a second time, she grabbed a box of orange juice and scanned it for the expiration date. It wasn't expired, thankfully, but she remembered that Amanda was trying to cut down on sugar. Opting for some coffee, she also remembered Amanda mentioning wanting to cut caffeine as well, which Angela could never commit to. The final option was tea, so she went for chai; she could never go wrong with chai.
Wondering the time, she leaned over the counter to see the clock on a wall in the living room. She'd forgotten her glasses on the nightstand and had to squint. It read 9:13 AM, and Angela believed she had finished fairly quickly, considering that she rarely makes breakfast in the morning. Tea was simple and delicious; she knew Amanda would love it. Well, that would be if she made it correctly. The thought of messing up haunted her, and her head went fuzzy as she stood there trying to figure out why. She just knew it had to be perfect.
She put water to boil in an electric kettle and waited patiently after she made sure she had a tea bag and some sugar ready for use. Angela grabbed a small mug, and when the water finished boiling, she began to sweat. Steadily, she poured into the cup, wanting to get the best water-to-tea ratio possible, and when she stopped where she believed was the right amount, she exhaled shakily. Bringing the tea bag into the cup, she allowed it to steep for around 3 minutes before she began to stir it for good measure.
While stirring the tea, her movements became mindless. The softened clinks of the spoon slowly faded out, and she lifted her head to gaze out the window. She thought about her life before and after Amanda. Before her, she was yelled at and reprimanded for clueless mistakes that were held against her for no reason other than leverage. She was made powerless, and at one point, she didn't blame those who treated her badly. She was used to it as a child, and now that she's with Amanda, part of her feels hollow in its absence. When they began to see each other, she thought it was a superficial fantasy that'd soon come crumbling down on her. She felt guilty now that she knew that their relationship was the complete opposite.
Feeling grateful was an understatement. Angela couldn't imagine a rational life without her. She'd never feel so loved and whole. Amanda's solace was unmatched by any person that she'd ever met, and every moment with her felt warm and padded. Every tear shed by Amanda affected Angela tenfold, and she reminisced on times where Amanda needed her, when Amanda cried in Angela's arms and begged her not to let go, Angela's hands caressing her hair as a tear fled from her own eye.
That was it, she felt needed.
For the first time, Angela felt worth something. It was hard for her to grasp the feeling. Amanda brought the best out of her, and though it was hard for Angela to break old habits, Amanda has shown so far that her love is unconditional.
At some point, Angela had stopped stirring to stand with her hands resting on the counter. Tears began to prick her eyes until she felt the presence of someone behind her. In response, she sniffs to clear her tears and prepare herself for the interaction. She smiled as hands reached around her waist, pulling her into a warm hug. Amanda nuzzled her head into Angela's neck, and Angela felt her lips grin against her.
"Good morning," Amanda whispered. Though they're the only two in the house, the silence seemed too peaceful to break.
"Good morning," Angela spoke softly, "How did you sleep?"
Amanda squeezed her torso a second before she guided Angela to turn around and face her.
"I slept amazingly. How 'bout you, hun?" Amanda eyed a thin section of hair thinly veiling Angela's eye and used a hand to brush it behind her ear. She continued staring at the features of Angela's face attentively.
"Also amazing," Angela's body heated inside at Amanda's action. "Notice anything?"
"Yeah, actually," Amanda comically turned around to face the table with the plated food. She turned her head back to Angela with a cute smile, with her eyes playfully squinted, "What's all this?"
Angela walked over to the dining table and gestured for Amanda to follow. Amanda followed behind her, and as Angela sat, she remained standing at the side of the table, looking at the food, then to Angela. Amanda pouted her lips as she failed to contain a smile.
"What are you doing?" Angela lightly chuckled, "Sit down."
Amanda reached her hand out on the glass table to stabilize herself as she guided her head closer to Angela's face. Her other hand grasped Angela's cheek to pull her into a slow and intimate kiss.
Amanda pulls away, "Ange, thank you for this."
Angela looks up at Amanda and swallows, mouth slightly parted. It takes a second for her to recollect her thoughts.
"You're welcome..." There's a pause, then she abruptly cleared her throat, cheeks still flushed, "Now sit and eat, the food's getting cold!"
Amanda removed the hand from her cheek, and Angela felt the cold air making itself at home again on her face. Amanda made her way to the seat across from Angela and started her breakfast by taking a sip of the tea. Angela, nervous, adjusted herself in her seat a few times in preparation for the review.
She waited a while, tasting the tea on her tongue. It was delicious and flavorful. Amanda wondered where the hell Angela could have bought this tea, and why she didn't know about it sooner. Nevertheless, she debated whether she should lie and tell Angela this wasn't the best cup of tea she'd ever tasted. But while examining Angela's feverish behavior, though she tried to hide it, she saw that Angela wasn't ready for that intensity of banter yet, especially when it came to the beautiful gift of food.
"Ange, this is perfect,"
Angela nodded, and she flashed a temporary grin. She wanted to be happy, but Amanda hadn't tasted the main dish yet. Her hand moved to her mouth, where she rubbed her index finger cautiously against her bottom lip. She watched Amanda like a hawk, but she didn't realize it until after Amanda took her first bite of avocado toast. Amanda's eyes lit up as she chewed. She looked up at Angela, seeing her eyebrows raised and a hesitant smile formed on her face.
"God, Angela, this is incredible! Where did you learn how to cook like this?" Amanda exclaimed with a mouthful of food.
Angela shakily exhaled. She was relieved that Amanda enjoyed her food, and now, instead of watching her anxiously, she watched in an odd admiration, even as Amanda sloppily ate the food before her.
"Nowhere in particular," she beamed. Though she really wanted to, she didn't want to bother Amanda for reassurance by asking if she 'really did like the food,' she was better than that. Instead, she stood up, stretching her arms and yawning. Amanda, busy with the meal, didn't notice Angela had walked up to her until she kissed a quick peck on the top of her head. She stopped chewing to smile, but when she looked up, she found Angela a quarter of the way to the bedroom.
"Hey," she said, a bit confused, "Aren't you going to eat with me?"
Angela stopped and turned around to shrug her shoulders.
"I'll make mine later. You eat," she replied.
Walking away into the bedroom, she closed the door and sank onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She found it difficult to talk to Amanda about her old habits, even if it was reasonable given her past, she still felt she had to be stronger, braver, and fend off her fears herself. But she realized it'd only begin to hurt her, and eventually, she thought, it would hurt their relationship too. Angela suspected Amanda was catching on. There were times when she looked at Angela for too long, or cooed and cuddled a little more excessively than usual. And in those moments, Angela pondered if she really had any reason to be depressed.
No, not depressed, sad. Angela hated saying she was "depressed," because she wasn't, according to her. But any person, like Amanda, who could see Angela knew that there were times when she seemed to vanish, even while she was sitting right next to them.
Angela sighed and wrapped her arm lazily across her head; it shielded her eyes from the sun that bore through the curtains, and with her vision blackened, it temporarily shunned away her existing problems.
Within five minutes, she was asleep.