43~One Old step at a time

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Marie-Anne's POV

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Benjamin, happy birthday to you."

"We love you, we do, we love you, we do. Happy birthday Benjamin, happy birthday to you," Dylan and I sing for Ben, he turns ten months today. It feels like only yesterday he was born and now he is almost one year old. Dylan blows the candle from the small cupcake we bought for him. We thought it would be cool if we brought a cupcake for every month and buy him a cake when he's finally one.

"You took the picture?" Dylan asks me. I nod my head showing him the picture from my phone. Dylan takes the candle off the cupcake handing it to Ben. Well, this is about to be a mess.

Ben smiles showing the only two little teeth he has, he slams the whole cupcake on his face, then passing his hands through my hair. "Ben," I whine. I just washed my hair. His light brown eyes stare at me as he shakes his little hands smiling even harder.

Dylan looks at us chuckling, he then goes back to his phone scanning away. "Time for you to get cleaned up," I tell Ben. The cupcake is all over his body, his clothes, his face, even his short little curly hair. I take the rest of the uneaten cupcake throwing it in the trash.

"I got him," Dylan says getting up from his seat. He unbuckles the high chair Ben is on, taking him out. I watch as he walks to the bathroom to clean him off. I smile internally feeling thankful I have him around. I don't know what I would do if Dylan wasn't in our lives, he is a big help.

His phone starts to vibrate on the counter, I take a peek, it is a call, the caller I.D reads Veronica, who the hell is Veronica? I stop being nosy and grab a wipe to clean off the counter and Ben's chair. "He's all cleaned up and is in his crib," Dylan says coming back to the kitchen.

"Thanks," I tell him, "someone called you," I add. He grabs his phone on the counter looking at the miss called. He doesn't say or do anything, he puts his phone in his pocket.

"You know your whole head is filled with cupcake, right?" He asks.

"I know," I say with a frown. I have to take another shower and wash my hair all over again. I guess motherhood forces you to take multiple showers a day because when he is not putting his food all over you, he is throwing up on you or he is just rolling his body all over the floor then he climbs on top of you with all the dirt.

He takes out a towel out of his pocket wetting it with water from the sink. He then comes next to me wiping my hair with the towel, "you're going to have to wash your hair," he says. I nod my head, I already knew I would have to. My curls are way too tight for the cupcakes crumbs to just come out.

He then presses the towel on my forehead to remove the mess, He stops with the towel still in my head just staring at me. "Why are you so danm beautiful?" He mumbles under his breath.

"Mhmm?" I ask him looking up to him. I didn't quite get why he said. He just nods his head no taking the towel away from my head, "thank you," I tell him. He doesn't move, I tap my hands on the counter waiting for him to move since his body is blocking the way. "You want to watch a movie?" I ask him.

He nods his head, he then moves out the way. "So, what do you want to watch?" I ask him walking to the living room.

"Anything you want," he says.

"We are going to watch Get Out," I say already going to my OnDemand. Dylan sighs taking a seat.

"Do we have to?" He asks like a little baby.

"What's wrong with Get Out?" I ask him sounding so innocent. I take a seat at the other end of the sofa. I understand why he doesn't want to watch the movie, but that movie is just so funny that I can't stop watching it.

"You know what's wrong with it," he says.

"You only didn't want to watch it because we were dating and you hate the idea of the movie, but know we are not dating, so you have to watch it," I tell him. He turns looking at me, letting out a sigh.

"Fine," he says. I smile and put on the movie for him to watch.


The movie ends and I immediately start laughing, the movie is just crazy. To begin, who in their right mind would kill black people to get their body because our bodies are better? I'm sorry, but I just don't see it happening. "I don't see how it is funny," Dylan says distracting me from my thoughts.

I try to hold on to my laugh, putting my hand over my mouth. Unable to contain my laugh no more, I let out my laugh, "I'm sorry," I say stopping. Dylan gets mad rolling his eyes at me, "admit it, it's fucking funny," I tell him pocking his stomach.

"It's not," he says grabbing my finger to stop pocking him.

"Okay," I pull my hand from him. "And thank you," I add.

"For what?" He asks me.

"The compliment," I tell him back. I actually did hear what he said, but he just said the wrong way. Why would he ask me why I'm so danm beautiful? It makes no sense.

"I thought you didn't hear me," he puts his head down looking at his fingers.

"My ears are as sharp as an owl's ear," I say pointing to my ears. He chuckles, passing his hands through his messy hair. Why do I find it so sexy when someone does that? It's something so simple yet so appealing. It's the way his hands pass through it, it's how messy his hair is, I'm sorry, but boys with messy hair always look so much better.

I move closer to him, taking out the small piece of particle that was in his hair, "thanks," he says his face down looking at the carpet on the floor. He seems deep in thought, his head is resting on his hands. He licks his lips, looking up at the T.V which is playing in the background. He turns around and I quickly turn so he doesn't think I was staring at him. "Staring is not nice," he mumbles under his breath.

"Sorry," I whisper back to him. We both glare at each other without saying a thing, after a while, I get tired of the tension. I do what I been wanting to do, kiss him.

He pulls his lips away staring into my light eyes, he then locks his lips into mine again. We kiss each other passionately, I pass my hands through his hair as he does the same.

We hear Ben crying through the baby monitor causing both of us to pull away, "I'll get him," Dylan says getting up.

"K," I whisper to myself.


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