Wonder of You

[Cicada]

It had been a good year. She had, like, 200 Instagram followers??? That was a whole ass fourth of not kids from school, absolutely insane stuff.

Okay maaaaaybe a few of them were men a bit too old to be <3ing a fourteen-year-old girl’s photos though.

Who cared + nobody asked + Mona had a cute boyfriend.

[Mona Marroquín, Memory Thread 1]

Sundress kinda day, right? Plus the stupidly large sunhat. She’d upcycled the cotton for the sundress from a discarded bed curtain- three dollars, Goodwill. She was that kinda bitch!

Their houses were on opposite ends of Meadowbrook so as aesthetics as it would have been to jauntily breeze on over to Manuel’s
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (Mañana? Felt too impersonal though. That was what Mona had called him before he’d asked if he could put a ring on it
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (in her dreams
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (gone sexual)))
house… too far by a mile and some. Mona was confident in her looks but sweaty and eyeshadow blurring into a blob of brown green black vomit was probably not even a look she could pull off.

So, Dad had dropped her off. Damn. Unironically getting to say ‘Dad brought me somewhere’ or ‘Dad asked how I was after school today’, weird. Still weird, even after she'd been able to do it for... a few odd years now. It was the cool kind of weird. The 'I wanna keep being able to say this' kind of weird.

It'd last. god willing

She had a bag of groceries casually looped over two fingers
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (kind of heavy, put down as soon as possible without putting it somewhere stupid)
with a handful of ingredients Manuel had asked her to bring when they’d set up the date over their last phone call before the last day of school. And then texted her to remind her. Twice. Probably just an excuse to text. God. Daaaaaamn. So fucking cute.

A boyfriend who cooked! She was lucky and, why yes, she did brag to her girlfriends in theater about him. Gigachad.gif had to do it to ‘em, etc. So the thing was that Mona got to go out and eat with the fam a lot this year and she’d tried like a dozen Jamaican places. Low key? Manana’s spicy jerk blew ‘em all out of the water. High key? Highest key. Banging her hand against the highest note of the piano.

She carefully made her way up the driveway. Paused on his doorstep, took a moment to calm herself before the hype made the butterflies in her stomach evacuate out through her lips. Apparently it was possible to like someone so much it made you nervous enough thinking about them to puke. Weird stuff. In a good way.

Knock knock, here’s the M in the M + M equation. MandMs, blah blah. Exclamation points cheesy shit that Mona hated except right here and right now!

[LYourLocalAutist]

It had been a good year. Manuel had been balling. Absolute courtstar. Literal next Magic. Point guard of the century at 15. Thermodynamic hoop chaser one gorillion game-winning passes made per second.

I mean okay maybe he’d been struggling with identity and reputation issues clashing with loyalty to a certain rule-breaking clique at school. Who were you to ask. Who the fuck are you, huh.

Certainly not his amazingly sweet and hot girlfriend. Only Mona was that. Carajo.

Manuel always felt like a fool whenever he tried to get a fit together for any kind of anything with Mona. For instance, she actually had “fashion” “knowledge”. She’d always come dressed up like some manner of Goddess while he was some idiot in shorts and a varsity jacket. God, her clothes. She made them herself! As he’d consistently yapped about to his teammates in the locker room. An angel on earth was approaching with some magic-enchanted fit while he compared sport logo shirts one through five again.

While that mess occurred upstairs, Mona's knock was answered by a short, young girl, visibly no more than eleven, dressed way too stylishly for what was clearly a stay-at-home day for the family. Her hair was done in several long, neat and thin little dreads, and her skin was the tone of Manuel's, sharing a few of his sharper facial features, though everything else was softer and more youthful. Before Mona stood Manuel's little sister, Rosa, who appeared as a perfect picture of prettiness and innocence before she registered who Mona was and instantly grew the biggest shit-eating grin known to man.

"Hiii," she opened with a greeting, clearly happy to see her besides the fact it meant she could do the following, before turning her attention towards the stairs going up and letting out the most drawn-out teasing yell ever conceived.

"MANUEL!!! It's your giiiiiirrrrllllfrieeeeeeeeeeend~!"

The horde (one Afro-Latin American teenager) was alerted, and Manuel's eyes snapped open. That little— he scrambled his nearest Aces shirt on with an unzipped zip-up hoodie to feign some form of coordination before sprinting down the stairs as fast as Rosa was, one moving towards and one away from Mona, one serious and one giggling her brains out.

"Mocosa molesta callate la- heyyyyyy."

Taking his newly-arrived girlfriend as a priority over chasing that devil-thing-child, her transitioned into a slide leading up to the door, leaning against the frame with a hand and immediately failing to be cool by tarnishing his suave grin with flagrant "Oh god you're so beautiful and I can't handle it" ogles. Throat clearing. Act normal you're dating you're dating you're uhhhhhhhhh

"Whhow, you, uh... you look amazing."

[Cicada]

"Hey." Mona giggled, throwing a grin as sharp and adorably bloodthirsty right back at Manuel's younger sis. Sharingan'ed on 'em.

It had taken her a decade and a few years of her life, most of which she couldn't even remember that wellshe could but she didn't like it when she didto feel safe sitting in her own bedroom. The rest of the blink of an eye's worth of her life to get a family, friends, a boyfriend, and as far as everyone was concerned, her boyfriend's siblings as her own. Rosa asked her to come by for board game nights often. Asked Jimena to come over even more so. Sometimes Mona /j-ed to Manuel that they'd have no time to date because they'd be too busy with family nights.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (put a ring on it
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ whoa-o-oa oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ -Beyonce probably)

Things changed. Life got bettercope.

"Heeey, cálmate."

Woof
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (bark bark grrr
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (calm down hormones jesus))
he was too easy on the eyes. Even when it was clear he'd been struggling with his clothes for minutes then had managed the jankest looking combo regardless. Go Aces!

<"Rosa's just doing you a solid. Otherwise I'd go up to look for you and see,"> Mona gesticulated with her hands. Explosions, stuff everywhere. She'd been told by more than one of her main girls that she had very enthusiastic body languagecould easily deck a bitch with these hands if they crossed her.

"Grin goes up here." Mona tapped his lips with a feather light amount of finger.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (also, it was weird she felt so open code switching around him
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ english to spanish to english maybe she'd randomly slip in all the french she couldnt speak at some point
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (she was generally not a fan of her first language unless it was the people she'd grown up with))
"You're letting it slide to the floor, hun." She struck a pose. All hip. She knew for a fact she was not the only one with hormones between them.

"Soooo, kitchen? I, like, dunno how fresh you need the things I bought to be."

[LYourLocalAutist]

O-KAY, deep breaths, calm down, stop starinngggg. Oh God she totally thought he was weird. But she was so pretty and expressive and and uhhhh shit shit she's talking to him gotta lock it in and respond. He could totally act like a person in front of his girlfriend. She was right about Rosa anyway— that little brat probably saved him a lot more embarassment.

"I, uh, totalmente-"

And now she's touching his lips with her perfect hands. Okay, simple, just get that jaw up— and now she's literally posing for him. Jesús, María y José. She was not making it easy. She seemed to be, in fact, seeking to make it hard. The innuendo was entirely on purpose. What was his hormonal ass supposed to do? Before he could think an answer through, he pulled his jaw up to that grin, dumbstruck, and shook his head.

"The hell am I supposed to do when it's you?"

Hell yeah, instinct. Points for locking it in. Now sufficiently focused enough that he could stare at something other than bae, his eyes turned to the grocery bag. From a glance, it was everything! Joy! He'd texted her unprompted like twice last week to remind her and totally not just because he liked being around her in any capacity. Joy, however, soon turned to worry as he saw her fingers straining to carry it. Chivalry instantly kicked in

"Oh- let me get that for you, muñequita."

Pet name to the helpful gesture to the show of strength oh he was locking it in. The grocery bag seemed to weigh almost nothing to him as he carefully swooped it up in his grasp. He didn't take a proper look inside yet— the kitchen was for that, and he was too busy shaking off butterflies. For now, he just smiled warmly down at his girlfriend and gestured for her to follow.

"Come on in, I'll get everything started."

The Hernández household could best be described as a home among homes. Like how that guy Tolkien kept describing how hobbits lived. Everything felt warm, comfortable, lived in, and every second thing or so seemed like it could be some kind of family heirloom.

[Cicada]

"The hell am I supposed to do when it's you?"

Mona could reflect the sort of puerile neener neener smiles like in Rosa and Jimena's arsenals, sure, but as someone who was a little older she also had mastered the art of casual sadism.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (allegedly)
A glint in her eyes, just enough teeth poking through her lips to give her that Yuno Gasai crazy hot I'm going to fuck you hard enough to kill you
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (not actually maybe when they were both older)
as she shrugged the tiniest she could so it could still be perceived by the naked eye.

"Enjoy it."

Mona smiled and purred her thanks as the weight that had been bending her fingers out of shape like melting steel was relieved. Manuel made it easy. Jeez, Mona needed to work out morethough maybe she didn't have the nutrition for it before PE became the worst class of the day for her.

"Eres un sol."

She drifted in his wake. It was all familiar sights, but always new details to discover with each visit, little ways the Hernandez household existed in their day to day, toys forgotten in a corner, aromas of the kitchen painted in layers over the upholstry. She could have dedicated herself to a lifetime of studying. She could have declared the whole thing a UNESCO site.

She could have grabbed him there and then and squeezed him until it was time to go home.

When they got to the kitchen Mona contemplated Manuel's domain with an almost ecclesiastical reverencePsalm 128:2, and like church, it felt like a place she could talk with a higher power. That power being the ability to twirl wrists until the spices melted into the food just right- no overcooking, nothing too chewy or toughnothing that tasted like the bland shit Grandma had once begrudgingly shoved in a microwave for them and nothing that didn't belong at a bustling dinner table full of smiling conversations and stupid in-jokes.

Mona leaned her elbows onto a countertop, humming to herself.

"<Are we cooking for just us?> You were a bit cryptic with the plans for today. It's like you like to surprise me." Imagine that.

[LYourLocalAutist]

Boy was he gonna. Biiiig toothy grin melting into a dreamy smile at being called his own pet name was the last thing Mona saw before Manuel turned, stepping with some kind of purpose knowing who was shadowing him. Angelic on earth coming through, casita. Make way make way. Rosa was peeking from a nearby doorway the whole walk, teasing grin on her face every second. He spotted her, rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out, a gesture she returned in concordance.

Arriving in the kitchen, he set the bag up on the countertop and spent no time whatsoever whipping his apron off its nearby hanger and putting it on. Pure white denim. Pro-fucking-fessional. You don't fuck around cooking in a Hernández household any more than you would in a Loveridge household. You cook with love which is power. Good thing for Manuel, as his power happened to be leaning against another countertop just nearby. He turned to her and smiled as he began to unpack the ingredients.

"Us and the little mosca over there. Parents are out with Cielo at the vet..." He nodded over to Rosa, who ducked back into whatever room she was peeking out of, giggling. Cielo, the family dog, was always super excited to see Mona. It never bade well for her fit. Hand moving in and out of the brown paper bag. Plantains. Yucca. Bell pepper. Onion. Garlic. His smile turned into a much cheekier, loving and teasing grin.

"...And I actually to find my bae very cute when she's surprised."

Little chuckle as the countertop began to fill out, almost painting a picture. Potatoes. Coconut milk. Seafood stock. Red pepper. Corn... and some pinkish material, maybe meat, wrapped in plastic. Something Manuel had apparently specially ordered for Mona to pick up at the market. Mystery meat he looked unironically pumped for. The bag was cleared away and Manuel's hands were on his hips. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Time to put a plan in motion... and let the novia help. He pulled a large pot out and set it to heat some vegetable oil (he had that one at home) over the stove. He moved back to a cutting board he'd set up and began mincing away at the many vegetables, and addressed Mona earnestly.

"Babe, d'you think you could throw the veggies I mince here into the pot when I'm done with 'em? I can let you have a chop if 'ya want."

[Cicada]

Mona waved Rosa's way + thumbs up. She was the #1 stan, had to give the loyal fans their dues.

"Aww. I hope Cielo's okayshe kind of hated him ngl her clothes were not chew toys. Just a routine check up?"

She was, just, entranced by Manuel in that moment. Rapturous visions of prophecyMatthew 7:15 it, uh, turned out that. Guys, while perfectly and sexy in button ups with the collars, or say, no shirts at all, actually most made the ladies swoon when rocking the apron fit. She, legitimately, could not stop staring.

She needed to stop, actually. Oh dang it, here came the part where she got to screw up.

"You're gonna think its adorable when I'm in shock after chopping off a finger, then." Mona winked as she switched out stations with him. He'd done most of the vegetables that she knew were annoying to cut up from watching Mom or Dad at the kitchen counterand freezing up when she was asked to participate. The awkward shaped ones or the ones that had a tough texture. Just the bell peppers left for her, even she could do thator get hurt and bleed everywhere!.

Chop the tops
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (off the coupes
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (the cuatrociento' ochenta y ocho))
off the peppers, easy, cut in half, easy, scoop out the seeds. Okay, actually felt fairly intuitive, right? She felt a bit of fake confidence steady the barely perceptible tremble in her fingers.

She opted into doing the flat of the knife blade against the knuckle thing Manuel had shown her once. It didn't do anything for her given how slow she moved.

chop
chop
chop

Lovely uneven ahh pieces.

[LYourLocalAutist]

Dice, chop, mince, cube, peel, the dancing steps of vegetables. Onion and garlic were the first in the pot, already sizzling. He took this time to reply to Mona: "Mm hm. Vaccinations and pills and the like. He's young, he'll be fine." More than anything, he was chipper about the opportunity to have a nice lunch alone(ish(damn meddling younger siblings)) with his girlfriend. Having left the bell peppers intact, he moved over to another cutting board, this one laden with the pink meat-whatever from the plastic he'd unwrapped. He set to tenderizing it best he could with the resident hammer, humming to himself before gasping in mock horror at Mona's joke.

"Qué?? Don't even joke about that!"

Little bit of banter made cooking all the nicer experience. Noticing she was done with the pepper-dicing about the same time as he was done slicing the tenderized mystery meat into acceptable bite-sizes, he set those bits aside and scooped the pieces into the pot, which itself was already beginning to waft a savoury scent. He didn't mind unevenness a bit; just made them charming, actually. Bell peppers just added to it. Sautée, simmer, pour in the seafood stock, scent getting richer and richer, even moreso as he added in the rest of the vegetables after a few more minutes. The kind of cooking smell that makes your stomach agonize in desire just letting it in your nose. Chef Manuel in the zone and not leaving any time soon. All the while a satisfied grin on his face, especially visible whenever he turned to look back at Mona. Almost like just knowing she was there was a bit of a motivational boost.

[Cicada]

Oohhhh, man, it smelled so gooood. And familiar. It reminded her of home. Just like Rosa reminded her of Jimena. Just like she was grateful to GodIsaiah 32:18 that she was so blessed to have moments like this in her life.

There was a funny cadence to moments like this. Mona would stare at Manuel like he was the white fluffy cloud hovering above her head with a trail of smaller white puffballs in between to connect. Her eyes soft, pupils a bit wide to drink him all in as he danced with the kitchenwear and made it look like he had millions of subscribers on YouTube.

And, he wouldn't be looking at her. And, when he did glance her way, she'd be distracted by something out the window, or by reading the labels of some errant box of cereal or oatmeal packet left out at one corner of the prep station. There were never, like, those perfect back-and-forth moments on TV where their eyes met and the world became a fuzzy haze of Valentine's Day hues. It was just... natural. Real. A little awkward and clumsy, just like Mona's fingers and wristsshe was still a bit stiff and occasionally checked to make sure she hadn't acidentally scored a knick through skin.

Her phone pinged and she chanced a look.

Another follower. Plus four <3s. The account picture looked like some pastry face neckbeard.

"Kinda dumb question, but uh." Mona set her phone down and shyly smiled a bit down at her fingers instead of right at him. "Was there a cosplay you'd ever be interested in me wearing?"

She'd be off to the thrift stores the moment the syllables were out of his mouth.

[LYourLocalAutist]

Simmer, simmer. A buncha minutes of that were meant to pass before the next active thing happened. Even then, Manuel never for a second looked like he wasn't focusing on his cooking. Veggies had to be tender, but couldn't just fall off the root or something. Humming continued. Old song he'd heard somewhere, he didn't know whose. Just made for a comfier atmosphere. Hearing Mona addressing him, however, was one of the few things that could tear him away from his work. He turned his head and smiled.

And then dropped the stirring spoon into the pot.

Shit- boiling- tongs. Get the spoon out, get a lid on that pot, simmer, simmer, clear throat. Ssshhiiiiiit. Every day Manuel had to wake up and be reminded he was dating someone who actively enjoyed dressing up and it was like an exciting punch to the gut every time. He'd try to think nothing of it but then he'd actually see her doing It on insta and be all like damn because. Like. Uh shit reply reply reply

He was in the process of opening his mouth to speak, seeming flustered himself when the third voice present in the house cut through the newly formed tension.

"Whassa cosplay?"

FUCK he'd forgotten all about her. Big brother instincts kicked in with MMA force and his head swivelled as he immediately set about separating the definition from the connotations present in this conversation.

"It's, uh, when you dress up like a character from a movie, or a TV show, or a- a comic. You know how last Halloween, you dressed up like Ochako from em-eych-ey? That's cosplay."

Situation sorted, grin back on the face, though the gears were turning in his head. MHA— his little sister had been making him watch it with her every spare moment he had. By extension, he had slightly more knowledge about the show than he'd be comfortable with, say, his teammates knowing. What the hell was a yaoi. ANYWAY. He thought for another moment, and still grinning, his little sister still there albeit now with that prepubescent kid "Ohhh." expression, he pulled out his phone and typed something short. Mona got pinged for a message right when he hit send.

"Mirko"

[Cicada]

Oh, there was the cute surprise from before. Mona letting out a startled puppy bark
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (embarassing noise but she couldn't help having a voice sometimes only dogs could hear with how high pitch it was
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (also she was a weeb the high pitch was a + modifier))
as Manuel dropped the spoon. Instinct almost had her amble over fast as her two feet could carry her, but, Manny was the athlete and she was the gamer. He had everything handled before her reflexes could even tell her to start handlingshe would have messed it up anyway.

Hell of a moment for little Rosa to show. Oh, Mona knew the answer to this one.

No words, just pulling up her Tsuya cosplay
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (jumpsuit was the result of contact fusioning three different athletic jackets worth of fabric- it had taken the better part of ten hours of sewing with how many different hems there were)
from the local cosplayer meetup earlier in March. She hustled over to the curious little girl and presented the photo, tapping the screen of her phone. 'That's me'.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (litterally her in the costume and also all her work and doing. It sucked that she hadn't been able to get the goggles together though. Props were the part she still needed a lot of practice on before she considered them worthy for public use)
Rose nodded enthusiastically the moment she saw. Yelled something about Mona being so cool, as little kids tended to.

Fortunately the message had sent after Mona was on her way back.

Oh. Too young to feel comf getting physical beyond a base or two, yeah, that was both of them. But old enough to enjoy the fanservice. She sidled up to him as coyly and innocently as was possible, gently hovering at his shoulder- or like, a bit below it because man he'd won the game of puberty- and grinning as she whispered.

"Quick as a rabbit."

Okay she forgot what episode that had been from but Mirko had definitely said it. Mona drew back, still smiling teeth out with that bit of innocent sadism only a teenage girl could manage so effortlessly.

"I'll start setting up the table."

[LYourLocalAutist]

Manuel felt suffused with relief as the situation was prevented from escalating. Looking back, it probably wasn't worth the panic in the first place, but big brother instinct triumphs over all. Smiling gently as bae approached little sister for bonding hours, trying to push the idea of his own sister getting a little too into cosplaying to the back of his mind. He then remembered he still had a surprise to cook and turned his attention back to the pot, albeit with a remaining blush as he thought about the name he was about to text to Mona. Listen, a guy likes what a guy likes.

bACK to cooking. Mona could tease him about his tastes later, after he gave her the best food ever (cook grindset). He grabbed the mystery meat he'd set aside earlier, then the coconut milk. Quick spin on a dial set the pot to low, and in the last ingredients went. Stir, stir, simmer, simmer. This would take a little bit, but oh the smell and oh the taste and oh he felt good about this one. Grinning down at his concoction, he was caught off guard by Mona's approach.

"Quick as a rabbit."

VISIBLE shiver. He was nooooot ready for that. Eyes snapped wiiide open, prey on a predator body. He could feel how close she was, even without contact. His eyes flitted down to the shorter girl next to him to bear witness to the sheer terror she projected with just a smile. Also a little hot but we can handle that later. Clear throat. Total loss for words. Critical hit. Like, what do you say to that?

"Ah- y-yeah, gracias."

Stir, stir, simmer, simmer.

[Cicada]

She smiled with her eyes up at him. Softer than what was going on with her gently overlined glossy lips. Her face was the innocent love as much as it was the raging hormones.

<"Thank me when I do it,> hun."> Mona patted his shoulder, once, putting the firm in affirming. She saw him, she accepted himplease please accept her, loved him all the more for the marshmallow soft hidden behind the jackass bully. Something something she could fix him
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (she could notcouldn't even fix herself but it was a dream as sweet as the sun melting into the horizon on the most beautiful of dusky evenings)
and she left on that note, humming a teasing sing-song note to herself.

Better Mona be getting the table set up than trying to linger in the kitchen and do... whatever the fuck it was she called 'helping'. Demasiados cocineros estropean el caldo, more of an English thing, but for some reason it occured to her in it's illegal immigrant
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (she was a citizen by birthright but she wouldn't have been surprised if she was on the To Deport list regardless, if low prio)
variant.

The most she could contribute, as opposed to flaying off the skin of her fingers. Even Jimena was picking up more of the craft than her own older sister, and would probably be a decent home cook by the time she was in high school. Fuck her for showing up her older sister. But also, pride and joy, etc.

It went something like:

Name: Jimena Antonio Marroquín
Gender: Female (probably)
Age: 11
Grade: 6th
School: Pierce Lookout Elementary
Hobbies and Interests: Gymnastics, hip-hop dancing, karaoke, cooking, eating way too much and staying the same size, hiding in her bedroom hyperventilating waiting for Mona to hold her

Appearance: Way more white passing than Mona, would probably be giga-mogging by the time she was in high school, so pretty, the best

Biography: Blah blah blah deserved betterMona hoped she was a good sister despite everything blah blah blah

Advantages: Everything
Disadvantages: Losers trying to bring her downMona included

Mona had the table finished up. Meticulous fork knife plate fork knife plate, napkins. She lingered in the doorway of the kitchen, continuing to drink it all in. The overwhelmingly nostalgic scent of dishes she knew from heart, the sight of the best boy she could have ever asked for in her lifedon't leave her don't leave her. A sensory buffet. Mona zoned out a bit, eyes clouded over with dreams of the futureplease exist please exist, ignoring another couple of pings from her phone.

[LYourLocalAutist]

Shhhhhiver. Like it was in the negatives in the kitchen, when what Manuel was actually feeling couldn't have been any further.

Seeing her face, feeling her touch, that managed to ground him. He smiled broadly in return, his rugged features yielding into something loving and genuine. Fuck's sake, how had an absolute jackass like him managed to end up pulling this. this. Soft and beautiful and understanding and implacably sweet goddess-woman. "Desde luego, muñequita." he spoke as she walked away, leaving him with his thoughts (about her). Me and the angelic bitch I pulled who the hell knows how it continues to elude me.

Heat reduced to a warm simmer. An almost therapeutic feeling. All smiles as he continued to stir, every aspect of the dish finally coming together in a glorious culmination of smells and sights, and soon tastes. Just a matter of time... but not that long a matter. A few more minutes after having salted and peppered and cilantro'd to taste was all it took. He instinctively knew the table would be set by now. Just a few more steps...

Manuel left the pot and began to whip around the kitchen, footwork as it would be in the NBA finals in 10 years and LeBron James his coach is there and he gives him an inspirational speech. That is to say pretty good. Three bowls were set on the counter next to the pot, and he immediately set about ladeling the hot, savoury soup into each in totally equal proportions. Then, he reached into a nearby cupboard, and pulled out a final touch; his secret weapon...

Three bowls on his right arm (waitermaxxing) and a plastic bag full of gradient brown/light brown somethings on the left, he made for the dining room, punctuating his sweet™ moves™ with a smooch on the top of Mona's head as he exited the kitchen. Bowls placed, side dish established, badabing badaboom, aaaaand FLOURISH:

"Lunch is served: Sopa de Caracol! Aaaaand pan de coco!"

Huge proud grin on his face as he gestured towards the table, a bowl of savoury broth and tender conch meat on the plates with the sweet little traditional Honduran bread rolls free for the side-dish-picking at the center of the table. This was his big surprise to Mona, though he assumed she could start telling by the time he got to the yucan. Nevertheless, the smile on his face remained as bright as the sun.

"Finally got the recipe from your mom. Hope it can live up to hers."

[Cicada]

Manuel found Mona plus Rosa plus the plates and the silverwear all exactly where they belonged. Regardless of where his little sister was intended to sit she had set up a tent at a seated Mona's flank, eyes ablaze, almost to be a wildfire inferno as she drank in the photos of Mona's projects so far. About three over the course of one year including Tsuya, one Bomb Girl from Chainsaw Man— best girl— and one Symmetra from Overwatch.

Rosa seemed to be particularly enamored with the drone strike faced girl, eagerly asking how to make a bomb for a head. The one part Mona did not know, unfortunately. She'd asked Gemini and she hadn't known. She'd asked a friendly face in the comic con that year, and after some back and forth Mona had her commission. She was hoping to semi-dismantle it, ideally without destroying it totally, to reverse engineer the construction. Apparently it had taken a full workbench of tools. Ouch if true, Mona had her doubts either Mom or Dad would be interested in the sorts of power tools that would leave clouds of noxious fumes and dust lingering around the garage.

"It's the sort of thing that takes a lot of work. I can't do it myself, sorry," the best response Mona could settle on. Rosa had seemed a bit disappointed at that. Augh, like a bullet straight to the heartletting down an innocent little sister was one of Mona's great fears.

Just in time for Manuel to make his triumphant entry. Mona had to laugh. The fuck did mans think he was doing with the show off 'for the next course the chef has prepared' ass poise.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (but like with everything else, gosh, she just couldn't help but fall in love, again
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (billionth time that visit!)
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (with the sight)
Like he was going to produce a pepper grinder and customize each girl's plate.

But she immediately recognized the rolls. No. He didn't.

"<Dude. That's not fair.>" She giggled, almost a bit hysterically, compulsively shoving half her face behind a hand because, gosh. Embarassing. Mom only made those for special occasions. Was this supposed to be one?

She guessed it was. The part where she officially started having dreams of the wedding
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (billion plus one)
and where she in reality sprung up and threw herself around him, arms almost cage like around his ribs as she buried her face into his collarbone. Rosa made 'ew gross' noises, like any prepubescent girl was wont to do, much as Mona knew from her own experience that she was also quietly jealous and wondering when this would happen to her in the future.

Mona breathed slow. In part to calm herself so she suddenly didn't start cryingrare she got to cry for happy reasons. Her voice came out wobbly.

"You're too good to me. Dork."