travelbypages
dog mom
TALISA SKY
Talisa’s heart swelled with pride and a touch of nervousness as she watched the spread of dishes before her. Every bite carried the essence of her heritage, each recipe a thread connecting her to her mother and the stories they had shared. It wasn’t just food, it was her heart on a plate. She bit her lip, scanning the table one last time to ensure everything was just as she wanted.
When Lawson leaned in and whispered his quiet praise, her cheeks flushed with warmth. She turned to him, a shy but bright smile tugging at her lips. “You think so? I was worried the bannock was a little overdone,” she murmured, her voice soft, betraying her slight nervousness. But his smile, so sincere, eased the tight knot in her chest.
As the meal went on, she found herself swept up in the atmosphere. The laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the shared stories made her heart feel fuller than it had in weeks. At one point, she leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to Lawson, who looked entirely at ease among the joyful chaos. “I think this might be the coziest Christmas dinner I’ve ever had,” she admitted quietly to herself, though she wasn’t sure he heard her. When the plates were cleared, and Lawson retreated to the kitchen, Talisa didn’t hesitate to follow. She found him at the sink, his sleeves rolled up as the warm water swirled with suds. For a moment, she simply watched him, a small, contented smile curling on her lips. He looked so at home, and for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, that made her heart ache in the best way.
She stepped forward, brushing past him gently as she reached for a clean towel. “You don’t get to do all the work, you know,” she said lightly, her voice teasing but firm. “You made this whole night perfect. The least I can do is dry.” When he gave her a look, half-protest, half-amusement, she raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. “Don’t even start. I insist,” she said, lifting a wet plate from the sink and drying it with meticulous care.
As they worked side by side, her voice softened. “You know,” she began, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, “this was really special. I don’t think I’ve felt this at home in a long time. Thank you for... this.” Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly looked down, busying herself with the dishes in her hands. The quiet between them was comfortable, broken only by the clinking of plates and the distant laughter of their guests. But even in the quiet, Talisa felt like a conversation was happening, a connection that needed no words.
When the last plate was dried and put away, she lingered, her hands twisting the dish towel nervously. Finally, she looked up at him, her gaze soft but searching. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Make everything feel... warm, like this is where I’m supposed to be.” Lawson turned to her, his expression unreadable but his eyes so full of something she couldn’t quite name that it made her breath hitch. She swallowed, taking a small step closer. “I mean it,” she said, her words more deliberate now. “Being here tonight, with you, has meant more than I can say.”
Her hand brushed up his arm and for a moment, neither of them spoke, the world beyond the kitchen fading into a blur. Talisa glanced up, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope—hope for whatever this was between them, fragile and new but undeniably real. And then, with a soft, hesitant smile, she broke the silence. “You should know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, “I’m really glad I stayed.”
Mentions: Lawson - PrincessAveRedfern
When Lawson leaned in and whispered his quiet praise, her cheeks flushed with warmth. She turned to him, a shy but bright smile tugging at her lips. “You think so? I was worried the bannock was a little overdone,” she murmured, her voice soft, betraying her slight nervousness. But his smile, so sincere, eased the tight knot in her chest.
As the meal went on, she found herself swept up in the atmosphere. The laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the shared stories made her heart feel fuller than it had in weeks. At one point, she leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to Lawson, who looked entirely at ease among the joyful chaos. “I think this might be the coziest Christmas dinner I’ve ever had,” she admitted quietly to herself, though she wasn’t sure he heard her. When the plates were cleared, and Lawson retreated to the kitchen, Talisa didn’t hesitate to follow. She found him at the sink, his sleeves rolled up as the warm water swirled with suds. For a moment, she simply watched him, a small, contented smile curling on her lips. He looked so at home, and for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, that made her heart ache in the best way.
She stepped forward, brushing past him gently as she reached for a clean towel. “You don’t get to do all the work, you know,” she said lightly, her voice teasing but firm. “You made this whole night perfect. The least I can do is dry.” When he gave her a look, half-protest, half-amusement, she raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. “Don’t even start. I insist,” she said, lifting a wet plate from the sink and drying it with meticulous care.
As they worked side by side, her voice softened. “You know,” she began, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, “this was really special. I don’t think I’ve felt this at home in a long time. Thank you for... this.” Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly looked down, busying herself with the dishes in her hands. The quiet between them was comfortable, broken only by the clinking of plates and the distant laughter of their guests. But even in the quiet, Talisa felt like a conversation was happening, a connection that needed no words.
When the last plate was dried and put away, she lingered, her hands twisting the dish towel nervously. Finally, she looked up at him, her gaze soft but searching. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Make everything feel... warm, like this is where I’m supposed to be.” Lawson turned to her, his expression unreadable but his eyes so full of something she couldn’t quite name that it made her breath hitch. She swallowed, taking a small step closer. “I mean it,” she said, her words more deliberate now. “Being here tonight, with you, has meant more than I can say.”
Her hand brushed up his arm and for a moment, neither of them spoke, the world beyond the kitchen fading into a blur. Talisa glanced up, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope—hope for whatever this was between them, fragile and new but undeniably real. And then, with a soft, hesitant smile, she broke the silence. “You should know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, “I’m really glad I stayed.”
Mentions: Lawson - PrincessAveRedfern
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