Maxxie: sweet and sour chickenMature

The lasagne's edible. At least, what's left of it is. We have about half of what there should've been, but still... it could've been worse. Right?

"Probably shouldn't have showers when there's food in the oven from now on," Hadley says with a giggle as we eat. I laugh and nod, finishing my tiny portion off. Hadley finishes his own and stretches out so his legs are over my lap. I chuckle slightly.

"Want a foot rub?" I enquire lightly, remembering how Ava had demanded one from Ryan when she sat like this at Christmas.

"Cheeky," he giggles. I just grin. "Well, since you're offering," he says, wiggling his toes. I smile, setting to work at giving him a foot rub. He smiles too, shutting his eyes. I turn my attention back to the TV, though I keep rubbing his feet.

"How long til Mom shows up again?"

"Dunno. But knowing her, she'll turn up, see the disaster in the kitchen and say I'm trying to poison you."

"I thought you were to begin with," he laughs. I pout and whine in protest. There's nothing wrong with my lasagne. I just got distracted by the shower. It'd have been fucking brilliant for me if I hadn't fucked up the timing. He giggles. "Sorry, sweetie." Sure, sure. I huff. "Luff you," he says, trying to undo the damage he did. I give him a kind of sideways look that maybe possibly might have said I don't forgive you just yet.

He gives me a hurt face and I stop rubbing his foot and cross my arms, sulking. He nudges me with his toe. Which is when I smile a little evilly.

"What's that look for?"

"For saying that my cooking looks like I'm trying to poison you, I'll let your mum in," I giggle at the horrified look on his face.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"You're quiet welcome to take it back," I grin.

"Never," he sticks out his tongue.

"Well then you'll just have to deal with your mum, won't you," I smile.

"Not if I'm asleep." I roll my eyes, realising just how hungry I still am as he pretends to be asleep. I push his legs off me and get up, wandering into the kitchen. "Get me a Pepsi," he says, opening one eye. I bring one over and he thanks me with a smile. I peck him on the cheek.

"No problem. I'm gonna order Chinese, I think. Want any?" he nods, drinking some of his Pepsi. I grab a menu from by the phone and pass it over to him while I look for another one. He doesn't take very long to pick what he wants, and the delivery gets here pretty quick too. When I sit back down, Hadley goes back to his pregnant lady position with his legs on my lap, but I'm too busy eating to really care. Sweet and sour chicken over lasagne any day.

I get nudged by Hadley's toe again while we're eating and I give him a questioning look. He gestures at my food and then at his mouth. I cuddle my box of chicken. Nuh uh.

"Pretty please," he says. I make my lower lip wobble a little. "Pwease," he breaks out the puppy eyes and I sigh, spearing a lump of chicken on my fork and feeding it to him. "Was that so hard?" he asks after swallowing it.

"Feeding you it? No. Parting with it... Yes," I tell him, trying not to laugh. He pouts and I lean over, kissing him. He kisses back and I hum.

"Fancy parting with a bit more?"

"Cheeky bugger," I scowl a little, only receiving the puppy eyes again in response.

"I need all the food I can get." I feed him some more and he gives me a huge grin, going back to his own food. I shake my head a little, finishing mine up before he can steal any more. Sure I love the guy. I love my sweet and sour chicken, too. Maybe I should've mentioned that he has to share me with my food.

Of course, that's when the buzzer goes off. I groan, swallowing down my last mouthful as I get up to answer it.

"H'lo?" I ask.

"Let me in." Oh, it's our favourite mother.

"He's asleep."

"Doesn't mean you can't let me in."

"Sure, but what're you gonna do if he's asleep?"

"Why should it matter?"

"Because I happen to know you don't like me much, and it's not gonna be much fun for either of us to just sit waiting for Hadley to wake up."

"Just let me in," she demands and I grit my teeth.

"I need to get dressed. Go have a coffee or something and come back in ten minutes." Unless of course, you want to see me in my boxers.

"...Fine." I hang up the phone thing and grumble.

"What're you grumbling about?"

"Well, your mum is insisting on coming back, which means I have to pretend I didn't carbonize the lasagne and getting dressed. Oh, and she'll probably figure out you were awake all along and hate me even more."

"She's not psychic," he laughs. Yeah, sure. Mums just know stuff. Grumbling under my breath, I go off into the bedroom to try and get dressed, and eventually settle for going topless, showing off my sexy broken collar bone and the faded bruises that cover pretty much most of my upper body.



The End

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