18

“Do you feel like having Italian?" I ask him on our way home, it's only two hours since we had our big breakfast but I'm already craving for some pasta.

"Italian? You mean pasta? Or the Mafia?"

"Stop it Toff! Pasta!" I hit him on the arm as he laughs. Both of us are absolutely at ease since we've settled our issues. I am again comfortable with my best friend.

"You want me to cook or you want to eat at Carmine's?" He asks after he’s done laughing at his own joke.

"Do you want to cook lunch or dinner? Choose one. Either lunch at Carmine's or dinner at Crabby Panties."

His eyes light up at the mention of his favorite place, "Alright I'll cook lunch!"

He strips his clothes once we're home, cooking in just a pair of boxer as I take my own sweet time to change into a comfortable shirt and shorts.

Fine, this is his shirt too but like what happened to his previous shirts, it's mine now.

"I've always loved your pasta!" I sit on the bar stool, planning to watch him cook while doing nothin