"How about..." He opened the cabinet and found only one thing. "Spicy ramen?" he chuckled. "Why don't you have any proper food?" He opened the fridge which only had a little food left. 

"I have to go grocery shopping, I'll go this weekend. If you don't want ramen, we can order something," I suggested, sitting on the countertop and unlocking my phone to place an order. 

"Order whatever you want," he said, standing between my legs. 

"Taco Bell," I sang, putting my favorite burrito and the Mexican fries in the cart. I handed him the phone. "Here. Put what you want in the cart. I'll go change, okay?" 

He nodded but didn't move. I raised my brows at him. "I can't believe you're my girlfriend," he chuckled. "Maybe I should have asked you properly." 

"Maybe," I laughed, nodding. 

He leaned forward and kissed me quickly. He pulled back after a while. "You can go change. But you're my girlfriend now. Remember that." He pointed a finger at me while walking to the couch, plopping down on it. 

I hopped off the counter and went into my room, taking my pajamas and going to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and then turned to the mirror, sighing. 

I don't know if it's just me overthinking or if he really meant to come off like that, but I feel like when Stefan introduced himself as my boyfriend, he did it to prove a point. I know it sounds a little weird because it barely makes sense, but I just feel like it was some possessive thing. It's more than likely that I'm just overthinking things, but to me, it just felt like a bullshit alpha-male thing. 

Alpha-male, who even says that anymore? I do, apparently. 

I feel like it was just a few weeks ago that Stefan told me he wasn't looking for a serious relationship when he met me. Maybe he genuinely changed his mind and I'm wrong. But maybe he saw me coming through that revolving door with Tristan and got the wrong idea. Or maybe he was just telling Tristan to stay away because I have a boyfriend. But that is an alpha-male thing to do. 

I need to stop saying that. 

I shrugged the blazer dress off and tossed it in the hamper, leaving my belt, rolled up on the counter. I pulled on my sweatpants and stopped when my tattoo caught my eye. I can think of at least three occasions when Stefan asked me what the butterflies represented and I told him it was too personal and cheesy and sad. 

I have three little butterflies tattooed on my right rib cage, to the side, and I've got one little red butterfly tattooed on my inner arm, inner elbow, actually. It's a little to the left. It's pretty small but it's noticeable because of the red ink. And the ones on my ribcage are only noticeable when I'm in my bra, or a bikini or a very cropped top or something. 

I got them almost as soon as I settled in Boston. I was staying in a dorm, and this was before I made any actual friends there. But I snuck out at night, all by myself, looked up the nearest tattoo shop, went there, and got them tattooed. And I got butterflies for a reason. 

When I was with Tristan, he had this habit. Whenever we would be hanging out, he would draw on me sometimes. He took art for a long time and he was actually really good at it but it was just a hobby, I know that. He would doodle all over me. My arms, my legs, my hands, my torso, my lower back. He would always draw flowers on my tailbone and butterflies on my torso. 

I never got the flowers tattooed because it wasn't a spot I could see on myself. I got the butterflies instead. I never knew why he drew them, actually. Or what they even meant. But I liked them. I had some pictures of them which I showed to the tattoo artist and we printed them and then I got them tattooed on me. 

I know it was a risky idea, getting tattoos that would always remind me of him. They're pretty much dedicated to him. But I wanted to always remember our relationship. He was my first boyfriend and my first love and I wanted to remember that. He always gave me butterflies, so it worked out perfectly and I had to get it tattooed because I wanted to remember it forever, in case I never felt it again. 

I sighed, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing my hair up in a bun before I walked back out into the kitchen which was joined with the living room. I grabbed a pack of Oreos and joined Stefan on the couch where he was looking for something to watch on TV. "What do you feel like watching?" I asked, crossing my legs. 

"Something funny. You?" 

Something scary. 

"Yeah, something funny sounds nice," I nodded. 

A little while later, the doorbell rang. I answered the door, we split the bill, and then we ate while watching another one of Adam Sandler's movies. He really likes those. 

I don't. I mean, no disrespect to Adam Sandler, he just isn't my guy when it comes to comedy. I'd rather watch Will Farell, or Ben Stiller, or Paul Rudd, or- of course, Kevin Hart, or Jack Black. Literally anybody but Adam Sandler. He just isn't my guy. 

I stopped chewing when he grabbed a fry from my plate. "You literally have your entire pack right there, Stefan," I whined, pulling my plate away. 

"But yours taste better," he teased, turning to me. 

"No, they don't. They taste the freakin' same, eat your own!" I hate sharing food, absolutely hate it. Unless I really like who I'm sharing it with. I only ever share with my parents. 

Or Tristan. 

I wouldn't share with him now though. No, absolutely not. Because he's not so sweet to me anymore. I definitely noticed when I got to work that he was trying to make me cave in and quit already. Maybe he got angry seeing me. It toned down during the day but I know he's still angry with me. He has every right to be. I just hope we can move past it. I'll apologize if I have to, but I have to find the right time for that because timing is everything. 

Stefan reached for another fry. 

I pushed his arm away, putting my burrito down. "Stefan, I swear. I will go in my room and lock the door, you can cuddle with Adam fucking Sandler then," I huffed, grabbing my glass of coke. 

"Okay, okay, sorry," he laughed, pecking my cheek. 

I rolled my eyes, both of us turning to the screen. I leaned forward, grabbing some of his fries. "Now we're even," I stated.

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Chapter 7

OMG I ABSOLUTELY HATE SHARING FOOD

Don't even get me started on how much it pisses me off when someone takes without asking.

the only people I share with are my parents, deadass

anybody else even tries and I will fucking slap them istg

sorry, just had to rant about that for a second

next chapter: order 

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