The Coffee Spill |Demi Lovato|

Chapter 63

"I can just take those back, you know." Demi threatens, walking towards me. I get up from the barstool, backing away from Demi as I shovel a few pieces of pancakes into my mouth. I circle around the island so I am standing where Demi was just moments ago. 

She turns the corner faster than I can process, her arms grabbing my waist, pulling me into her. Her fingers interlock, palms resting on my stomach as she rests her chin on my shoulder. I feed her a piece of pancake, watching as she has the same reaction I did; closed eyes and a moan of pleasure. 

Eventually, she lets go, letting me finish my breakfast in peace while she catered to the mess in the kitchen from breakfast. 

Afterward, Demi and I took a shower together. It lasted a little longer than it should've mostly because Demi couldn't keep her hands and lips to herself. 

Wrapping my hair in a towel, I plopped back against the headboard, letting my feet slip under the unmade sheets. Demi joined me, setting her computer on her lap. 

We bounced between different websites, adding things to our registry. It mostly contained kitchen appliances including an espresso machine and juicer. I convinced Demi to add an outdoor pizza oven to the registry even though she has very little interest in one. 

"You know what I've always wanted?" Demi asks. I turn to her, shaking my head no. "An air fryer." 

"You can add it to the registry." I remind her. 

"I mean, how can you fry something using air?" 

I can't help but laugh at Demi as she questions the science behind air fryers. After browsing air fryers for half an hour, she settles on one with two racks and a removable rotating basket for foods like fries and onion rings. 

Before we know it, the registry is complete with a wide array of options from small kitchen appliances to wall art to essential household tools every lesbian should own.

Demi opens her bedside drawer, pulling out her notebook. She flips to the last page written in; her list. Excitedly, she crosses off 'Finish and publish registry' with a black pen before placing the back of the pen in her mouth as she scans over the rest of the list. Once she's done she places it on her nightstand before closing her laptop shut. 

She scoots down, giving her space to lay her head on her pillow, her arm extended outwards for me to cuddle her. I gladly do, watching her open her camera roll. Geez, over eight thousand photos and videos are stored in her phone. 

I watch as she scrolls to October; the month we met. As she scrolls through, she clicks on every photo of us, adding them to a folder titled 'Our Story'. The first few photos are from our first few movie nights, where we would cuddle on her couch or in her theatre while Supergirl played on the tv. Those nights always ended with popcorn wedged between the seats and scattered across the floor from popcorn fights. 

She continues her descent through her photos, paying extra attention to the photos from our trip to Texas last year. 

Demi gasps as she finds a video from our last night there, clicking on it immediately. 

My eyes go wide as I realize what video it is. As drunk as I was, I remember that night clearly. "Demi, don't!" I scream, trying to take her phone from her. She manages to keep my arms at a safe distance, successfully clicking play on the video. 

The intro to Stay by Rihanna plays through her phone's speakers as Demi and I begin to sing the song. Demi's voice gets softer and softer until mine is the only voice audible. I put my hands over my ears, trying to ignore my terrible singing.