Do you really hate me? (Quackbur)

Chapter fifty: Re-made recipes.

Chapter art by: @fragmentofhope on Twitter.

TW: My stupid habit of putting 'swearing' as a Tw :)
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Quackity pov:

<Time skip, Quackity's house>

I opened up the front door, sliding my shoes off and walking to the kitchen island where my mom stood. "Took you long enough," she smiled, "so... what's you do with that Wilbur guy? Go out for food or..?"

I quickly replied with;

Yep! Food, and uh, coffee... that's- that's what we planned-!

She glared at me and raised an eyebrow, about to say something before getting cut off by the doorbell ringing. "Saved by the bell," she whispered as she walked past me, getting the delivery food from the door. "Dinners ready!"

Isn't it a bit early for... whatever that is?

"Chinese food, I haven't had it in a while... or- at least a week. I eat a lot of takeout for lunch at work," she answered, before sighing loudly. "They got the order wrong! I'm allergic to half the stuff in here..." she scowled, "I'm so dumb, they always get the order wrong! Why do I even try..? Alright! Never mind this, I'll just make something for dinner instead! Haven't made anything homemade for a while... but I'm sure it's fine!"

I can make something, my friend taught me how to make a really good pasta recipe. I'm sure we still have most of the ingredients...

"Oh? The same friend from earlier?"

Mhm... yep, same friend... alright, why don't you, uh, watch something on the tv or something... I'll make dinner.

She smirked a bit before grabbing her phone and heading into the living room, mumbling something about getting a refund while she walked.

Ignoring her remarks, I pull out all of the extra ingredients from the last time Wilbur brought me to the store. Quickly boiling water on the stove and tossing the uncooked noodles in, and chopping the vegetables on the cutting board. I tried remembering how Wil explained to cut them without slicing yourself at the same time, but it was clear he had way more practice cooking than me. I still had to grab a bandaid from the cabinet, one less than last time though!

After around thirty minutes of constant back and forth between the stove top and the counter, I grab the plates and started dishing them out. My mom came in after a minute, "wow, that actually looks really good. Tell that friend of yours to teach you some more recipes," she laughed.

Yeah, yeah, tease me all you want.

"Okay, but in all seriousness that smells really good."

I hummed in response as she grabbed cutlery and took a seat beside me at the counter. The food was hot, but tasted good anyways. Though not as good as when Wilbur made it, he said he practiced for a week though, so that makes sense. Jeez, now that I'm thinking about he plans ahead a lot. Does he do this with everything? Or just stuff to do with me..?

<time skip a few hours>

I walked up the staircase shouting a 'goodnight' as the sounds of the TV downstairs faded. Flopping onto my bed after changing into something more comfortable, I stare at my phone screen. Scrolling through whatever app I clicked on first, a notification caught my eye. 'One message from: WILLIAM'

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WILLIAM:
Hey, are you up?

You:
No.
What's up?