I Wish

Chapter 28

Dinner was… glorious. We’d eaten in the tower suite, because for all that she wanted me to stay here Ivy didn’t seem to want to let me go anywhere or meet anyone. I was going to give her a little bit of time to get over it. I’d been badly hurt, and she hadn’t pulled anything like this before that had happened, so there was a grace period. Not long, not even a week, but at least a couple of days were already ceded towards giving her some time to cope. Back to dinner, it was as if she had raided someone's feast. The bowl of soup was thick orange and came with a crusty bread roll that smelled so good that it made my mouth water. The two of us in the bed, and swaddled in blankets. She sat so close to me that our sides pressed together and despite all the drama of the day I couldn’t bring myself to move away. It was comfortable, and it was time I started to be honest with myself. We weren’t ever going to get anywhere otherwise.

“Pumpkin?” I asked her gazing at the contents of my bowl, and she nodded.

“It’s my favourite,” she said with a happy hum, shoveling it in and this girl was supposed to be royalty. Pumpkin was my favourite too, but I didn’t tell her that. Perhaps it was imagination, but she smirked like she knew. I picked up the spoon, and blew off the steam. It was really hot, how Ivy hadn’t burnt herself yet was beyond me. Maybe it had something to do with being Queen of summer, like a reverse Elsa kind of thing? Who knows. I wasn’t particularly curious enough to ask, or willing to come across that way. Without another thought I pop the food into my mouth, and immediately let out a noise that had Ivy’s head jerking up to look at me.

“Oh my god, this is so good,” I groaned, and now I understood why she’d been all but mauling the food. She started to laugh and put her arm over my shoulder. I wasn’t sure it was the action, or possibly the soup I was downing at an almost alarming speed, but it was like I was being warmed from the inside.

“I know,” she said, smiling wide enough that I was sure her muscles were going to ache later, “Eat up.” I stopped for a moment and tried to remember when I’d eaten last, with my family certainly, but how long ago that was I don’t know. A day at least, and that was my cue to continue to dig in. The bread roll was just as good, warm and flakey, almost melting in your mouth before you got the chance to swallow it. I didn’t know bread could do that, and now that I did I was starting to come to the conclusion that it was supposed to. We had just been doing it wrong. The empty bowl was pulled off my lap and a plate replaced it. It was some kind of cheesy pasta vegetable filled monstrosity. Salty sweet, the vegetable’s still delightfully crisp, and long strings of cheese that dangled from my fork as I fought to eat it. I should have been full, even as good as it was, but it was like as long as there was food on offer I was going to keep eating that. 

“There’s no meat in this, it should not be so good,” I told her in awe. I was a carnivore, and I didn’t particularly care what anyone else had to say about that. I had a tenuous truce with my vegan/vegetarian friends. They wouldn’t try to convert me, and I wouldn’t order my steak so bloody that it was blue. I may have lost one or two friends a little before all the covid stuff, but I didn’t have to defend my choices to them and the ones that remained enjoyed a little thing called mutual respect. It was lovely, and I loved those friends. 

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I’m a bad vegetarian?” she asked me, and I stared at her.

“Describe a bad vegetarian?” I said, frowning, and wondering when she was going with this.

“You know how some people say that for some reason fish don’t count?” she said innocently. I nodded hesitantly. “Neither does bacon,” she said bluntly. 

“Ah,” I said and nodded, “Wisdom I can understand. Nobody should shun bacon.” She nodded along with me, and then got that s**t-eating grin that she did so well. It crawled over her face and her eyes sparkled. 

“It confuses everyone who thinks I do it for the lives of animals, when that's just not it. I just don’t like any meat that isn’t pig,” she said gilbly, “Does that happen with humans? People assuming that your preference was unendingly linked with a particular opinion.” Ivy takes out empty plates and pops them on the bedside table. I snorted.

“Yes. In fact, if it makes people seem shitty, assume that humans do it. They will do it in spades,” I said with zero faith in humanity as a whole. I used to, and wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly when I stopped, but I’d lost it somewhere along the way. My attitude concerning people had developed into something reminiscent of Heath Ledger’s Joker, with the general idea that when push came to shove those people would probably eat each other… or at the very least punch on over toilet paper. 

“See, you should stay here. I’ll order people to stop it,” she said, trying to tempt me.

“Ivy,” I huffed. She nudged her shoulder into mine.

“Whaaa… I’ve got the world's most beautiful girl in my bed,” she defended herself, “I’m working to keep it a repeat performance.” 

“I’m not the worlds most beautiful,” I mumbled like an i***t. Seriously, this was the line I was getting blushy over? I really wasn’t even going to make her work for it, was I? 

“You are to me,” she said steadfast in return, “You’ll always be to me.” In pursuit of happiness I didn’t picture Isaac as she’d exploded him, I didn't make sure I could almost hear it out loud. I felt like I should remind myself, but they’d… well it didn’t take a genius to figure out that if Ivy hadn't showed up when she did I would have been dead. I was forcing myself to remember things that ruined moments, and questioned things that had felt easy before I’d felt bad about ignoring it. Maybe that was the way that happiness happened, Ivy said I was sabotaging myself so for tonight at least I was going to stop.

“Suck up,” I teased her and flopped back against the pillows, “Give me my dessert.” I made little grabby hands in the air. Ivy felt the need to grab them and place tiny kisses on them. It was cute, and I could feel myself smile. I was really over this emotional rollercoaster, if I kept flipping around from one this fast I was going to give Ivy whiplash for a change. 

“Here,” she murmured, holding this little spun sugar, fruit decorated chocolate bite sized piece to my lips. They pushed lightly, and I considered taking it from her and doing it myself but then I opened my mouth and she popped it in anyway, and ooohhhh.... If I thought that the rest of the meal was good then this was unbelievable. It was so sweet, and the fruit was so fresh. The side effect of never seeing the inside of a supermarket or a truck was amazing. 

“I really hope that you didn’t want any,” I said dazedly. She pressed a kiss to my forehead, and picked up another one.

“If I get to feed them all to you, while you lay here all cute and sleepy, you might want to start worrying about your waistline because I’ll ring the kitchen for more,” she threatened, squishing down to lay with me, “I vote we have food in bed at least once a week.”

“My mum won’t even let me take food into my room,” I said laughing at the very idea, “Can we make it two and a half times a week.” She was very agreeable with that, and it was really just so nice not to be arguing again. Little things really do add up.