April
I missed breakfast, and I wanted Angel to make me something.
She offered to take me to a restaurant or the district’s street-food arena, but I wanted Angel to cook for me.
Per our agreement, which we both signed this morning, Angel laminated the paper and said she was going to frame it.
She actually looked proud when she smoothed down the edges of the plastic, holding it up to the light to inspect her handy work before sliding it carefully into her bag.
So, we were in the market buying food items for Angel to cook for me.
The morning air in the market was thick with the smell of wet ice, raw fish, and hot oil from the stalls nearby. Vendors yelled out their prices over the noise of the crowd, their voices overlapping in a constant rhythm. People pushed past us, shoulders bumping against mine as they carried plastic bags stuffed with fresh produce.
"I am a lobster. Do you wanna play?"
When I looked at Angel, there was a big lobster in front of her. She was holding it by its thick shell, waving one of its blue-tinted claws directly in my face.
I was frightened for a moment, snapping my head back so fast my neck popped.
"Hey, don’t scare me like that. You’re going to give me a mini heart attack."
"Come on. If what we did last night and this morning didn’t give you a heart attack, this can’t," she said, putting the lobster into the bag. She dropped it in with a heavy thud, sealing the top with a loose knot.
"Hahaha..."
I faked a laugh, rolling my eyes as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
"Eh, eh, eh."
She mimicked my tone and facial expression, twisting her nose up, then tried to kiss me, but I immediately dodged. My upper body leaned back automatically, my heels catching on the damp concrete.
My eyes darted toward the people around the market.
This was new to me. She happened to be my stepsister, and I didn’t want people staring at us, talking about us, or spreading information like wildfire.
A few eyes were already lingering on us, taking in our clothes, our faces, and the way we stood just a little too close together near the display crates.
But then Angel placed her hand under my chin and pulled my face toward hers.
Her fingers were firm, locking around my jaw with enough force to stop me in my tracks. I tried to pull away, straining my neck, but she didn’t let me go. Her grip was like iron, keeping me planted right where I was while the crowded aisle kept moving around us.
When she pulled away, her crimson eyes met mine. They held an intense look.
She was still holding my chin, her thumb resting against the corner of my lower lip.
"Don’t you ever fucking reject my kiss. Whenever and wherever I want to kiss you, let me. And you can kiss me whenever and wherever you want."
Her breath was warm against my skin, cutting right through the crisp morning breeze. My heart hammered against my ribs, a sudden rush of blood making my ears ring.
"But people..."
"Let them look. Let them talk. I don’t care. Come on, we still need to buy corn and noodles."
Even though people were staring at us, Angel didn’t care. She still had that shameless attitude.
I just stared at the market floor, following Angel’s footsteps.
I kept my chin down, watching the rubber soles of her shoes kick up tiny splashes in the shallow puddles along the walkway. It was still new to me. We were practically the most important people in the district, and the fear of my mother finding out still stuck with me.
So, instead of a regular kitchen, Angel took me to a terrace on top of one of the tallest buildings in the district.
It was really high. Thankfully, there was an elevator that took us all the way to the rooftop. The metal doors groaned as they closed, leaving us in a brief, heavy silence as the motor hummed, pulling us straight up through the core of the concrete tower.
When I got there, it looked like an open-air living room.
The wind up here was strong, tugging at my hair and blowing the stray scent of sea salt up from the lower harbor. There was a round bed, a table, a stack of Angel’s skateboards, some dumbbells, and I could see some naughty instruments lying around on the side tables and scattered near the edge of the floor.
Angel brought out a mini outdoor burner, a pot, and some other kitchen utensils.
"We’re cooking our seafood noodles here," she announced, dropping everything on the floor and placing two small stools nearby.
Then I heard a meow.
It was faint, coming from behind a stack of folded blankets. When I turned around, I saw Terror inside a makeshift cardboard box.
"Good morning, Coco. How was your night?"
Angel smiled at the cat, who didn’t look happy. The orange cat sat with her paws tucked tightly under her chest, her eyes narrowed into small slits.
She tried to carry her out of the box, reaching both hands in, but Coco jumped out and ran into a hole, leaving only her head poking out as she stared at Angel.
The cat’s whiskers twitched in irritation.
"Oh... you’re angry. I know I missed our skating last night, but I promise you, tonight we’ll go for four hours around the district."
I watched as Angel tried to make peace with the cat, but nope. Coco stayed locked in the shadow of the wall, letting out a sharp, tiny hiss before pulling her head back another inch.
"Look what I got for you. Your favorite tuna. I bought two cans..... Okay, I’ll just leave them here, and when you’re hungry, you can come and eat."
Angel opened the cans, the metal lids popping open with a sharp, wet click, and placed them beside the hole.
Then she turned to me.
"Okay, let’s prepare our own food."
I simply pretended I hadn’t just witnessed Angel being a fur mommy to that cat for what felt like the 100th time. I walked over to the burner, crouching down on one of the stools while she clicked the starter. A small blue flame hissed to life beneath the bottom of the pot.
So, together, we prepared seafood noodles.
We dropped the ingredients in, watching the water boil up into a thick, fragrant steam. Angel tossed in the corn, the fresh noodles, and the sliced seafood, stirring it all around with a pair of long wooden chopsticks while the sauce bubbled up hot and red against the sides of the pot.
The rich scent of garlic, spices, and fresh shellfish filled the cool air around us.
And just when we were about to dig in, we were interrupted by our friends.
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