Make Me Yours
The moment imprinted itself on me in a strange moment of awareness, but I couldn’t help but smile.
How silly was it to feel nostalgia for a moment that wasn’t even over yet?
Must be hormones or something, I decided as I placed peppers, onions, and chicken onto a flour tortilla and covered it in beans, guacamole, and sour cream with a dash of shredded Monterey Jack on top. The perfect fajita, to me, at least.
“I can’t believe how perfect this all is.” Kim said after she swallowed another bite of Spanish rice. “You’ve got the rice down beautifully, Tessa.”