Teaching Darlia to cook has to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I’ve killed people. The beautiful girl in front of me asks a hundred times if she’s doing every single task correctly, and it’s the most adorable and heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen.
Darlia is adorable. The fact she’s missing so many basic skills is not.
I’ll teach her everything she needs to know, and teach myself patience in the process.
“That’s it, baby. Now just keep stirring until the liquid turns thick,” I tell her, trying my best not to laugh at how concentrated she is right now. Gods, this woman is beautiful. And right now Darlia is biting the inside of her cheek without realising, so focused on the task in front of her. Looking up at me with eyes desperate for approval, I nod.
“Mhmm, just like that.”
When she’s done and the evidence is safely in a bowl, Darlia turns to me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen her have, her eyes filled with pride as she holds out the bowl to show me as if I haven’t been watching this entire time.
I’m in love with Darlia. I want to see that face, that smile, those eyes, every day for the rest of my life. And I’m willing to do just about anything to make sure that’s exactly what will happen.
“Looks great, baby.” Her smile widens, and I swear to god my heart skips a beat.
“I want to make something else! Teach me something else!” This time I don’t stop the laugh from escaping. Darlia is excited, and I’m 90% sure it’s an emotion she’s never experienced before, so I’m not going to take it from her. “Alright, think you can handle something other than a ration pack?”
There is not a single space on the bench clear when she finally has her fill of cooking and all the boys, also laughing, are now reaping the rewards of Darlia’s newfound hobby. Each of them takes two or three bowls of food and sits down.
Bella, who also looks much like me, trying not to laugh at Darlia, grabs a bowl for herself before sitting down on the couch and starting to eat.
When Darlia and I finally sit down with them, the conversation feels comfortable, and I’m sure it does to her as well. Her face is so soft, her lips curved into a smile as she listens to Weston and Caleb fight over something stupid I don’t pay attention to.
“You know, Cayden used to walk around in his boxers half the day, wouldn’t even get dressed until the afternoon, and by then we had somewhere to be.”
I’m going to kill them all, slowly, painfully. The Academy will have nothing on me.
“Oh my god, do you remember the time Cayden had that buzz cut phase? He would have stubble for hair and then have the nerve to judge our hair! He didn’t even have any!”
I can’t kill my brothers. I can’t kill my brothers. I can’t kill my brothers.
“Or how he slept with a teddy until he was eighteen, and when we tried to hide it, he had a full-on meltdown. Tore the house apart looking for it.”
Darlia laughs deeply, heartedly, and we all freeze.
Jesus.
It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard and it sends a jolt straight down to a place it shouldn’t be. I know Darlia is innocent; her breakdown after I ate her out proved just how innocent and desperate for touch she was. But it’s so fucking hard to look at her and not want every part of her.
And seeing Darlia happy? Genuine, unashamed happiness?
It’s something I could easily become addicted to. Hell, I already am. I am an addict for Darlia, and she doesn’t even understand how deeply she is into my skin and my heart.
Bella decides it’s time to throw Darlia under the bus with a laugh. “You know, when we first arrived at The Academy, they cut our hair short, shoulder-length. But Shayleen once told me Darlia asked for it to be even shorter, like just below her ears.”
Darlia’s cheeks flush pink, and she quickly glares at her. “That did not happen.” Her voice is so grumpy and defensive, we all burst into laughter, Darlia included.
After a few more hours of talking and playing a few games that I’m entirely sure Darlia still doesn’t understand but pretends to anyway, the boys prepare to crash on the couch while Bella heads to the spare bedroom. All while I’m left wondering if I’m sleeping on the floor again, or if Darlia wants me in bed with her.
Even when Darlia was in the depth of her grief and I knew she wouldn’t notice me, I never stayed in the room with her. If it was my choice, she wouldn’t be anywhere other than in my arms. But in that moment, we all knew Darlia needed time to process, and I wasn’t going to take that from her.
“Are you coming?” Her voice is so soft, almost nervous.
“Yeah, baby, let’s go to bed.” Taking her hand, I lead her down the small hallway to the bedroom and help her get ready for bed. Darlia takes her bra off while leaving my shirt on, leaving her panties on before getting under the covers.
“Uh, can I…can I just wear my boxers?” This is so fucking awkward, I feel like a teenager. I get a soft hum of approval as a response, and it’s about as good as I’m going to get. So, I strip down, getting into bed behind Darlia and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back to my chest.
I press my nose into her hair, letting her distantly Darlia smell calm me while stroking her stomach with my thumb over my shirt.
