My Only One

Jaime's POV

Shaking my head, I entered into the small, but cozy room that belonged to Mike, only knowing Alex was in there by the sound of her laughing. She was rolling around on the queen-sized bed, clutching her stomach and giggling to the point where she couldn't breathe, holding her iPod against her chest.

"Oh god, oh god." She repeated, taking another glance at the screen and bursting into laughter once more.

Her laughter was contagious, so I let out a small chuckle, gaining her attention. "What's so funny?"

She bit her lip, another small giggle tumbling out as she tried to keep her composure. "Want to see a dog with an overbite?"

I rose an eyebrow as she laughed again, tossing the device to me. "L-look!"

Glancing down, I was greeted with a small dog, and sure enough, he had an overbite as well as a lazy eye. Meanwhile, Alex was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe, the words "I can't" slipping out from time to time.

I giggled as I looked back down. It was pretty funny. Okay, it was really funny.

Needless to say, we spent a good ten minutes laughing at a dog with an overbite.

"Tuna." She finally forced out, sitting up straight beside me.

"Hmm?"

"His name is Tuna."

"...Okay?" I grinned, shaking my head fondly. "You're so fucking weird."

"You laughed too!"

"Only because you were laughing!"

"I want him, Jaime. Can you get me him?" She pouted a bit, batting her eyelashes slightly.

I rolled my eyes, faking an exasperated sigh. "No." I answered simply, smirking at her over-dramatic frown as I wiped away a laugh-induced tear from her eye. "But I can help you make cupcakes."

_

"How many eggs?"

"Two." I answered, double checking the recipe. "Yes, we need two."

"Alright." She cracked the eggs expertly, tossing the remaining shell into the trash can. "Can you make the cream cheese icing while I mix this?"

"Sure." With a nod, I grabbed that recipe, laying out the ingredients. "Ew, this looks hard."

"It's like, cream cheese, butter, sugar, and vanilla. You'll survive." Alex remarked, blending the ingredients.

I only sighed. Cooking was boring, and hard. And stupid. Why couldn't we go buy cupcakes? Isn't that why bakers make them?

Despite my inward (and outward) complaining, I mixed together what was needed for the icing, then storing it in the refrigerator.

"Well," Alex began with a shrug. "The cupcakes are cooking and I have some time to go look for my decorating stuff and grab the sprinkles. Don't break anything while I'm gone."

"The only thing broken is my heart." I sneered, falsely pouting and pointing to my chest to emphasize.

"Aw. You poor thing." She cooed, squeezing my cheeks before waltzing off back upstairs, leaving me to scoff and rub my sore cheeks.

"What's cooking, good looking?" A voice interrupted my self-pity party. Vic smirked over at me, peeking into the stove. "Well, nothing is burning. That's a good sign."

"Shut up."

Vic raised his hands up in mock defense. "Just making an observation. No really, are they almost done?"

"Why?"

"I'm hungry." He pouted, pointing to his stomach.

"Fatty."

His mouth formed a small 'o' as he stared back at me. "That was...rude."

"Aww." I cooed, shaking my head and walking over to the pouting boy. "I'm sorry, Vicky. You know I didn't mean it."

"You did." He played along, sticking his tongue out and crossing his arms.

"No I didn't, baby." I wrapped my arms around him, him wiggling in my grip. "I'm sorry."

"Get off of me." He smirked, and before I could respond, flour was hitting my face.

"Vic!" I squeaked, him chuckling and flicking more flour at me. "That probably got in my hair!"

He only continued to laugh, so I grabbed a handful of sugar and threw it at him.

"Motherfu- Jaime! Kellin will be here any minute!"

"Sucks for you." I remarked contemptuously, flicking more at him.

"That's it!" He squealed, shaking his hair. "You're dead!"

He made a grab at me and a yelped, jumping away with a giggle. Vic only smirked, grabbing something off the counter before pinning me to a wall, and he held up his hand.

No.

It was too late.

He'd already brought the egg down and cracked it on my skunky, well fixed hair.

"You're fucking dead, Fuentes." I hissed, pushing him off before grabbing the Redi whip and squirting some at him.

"Ew, fuck!" He hollered, trying to get it off of him when I tackled him to the ground, grabbing a handful of flour.

"Fuck you, Vic." Laughing as I straddled his hips, I dropped the whole handful in face, chuckling when he started to cough.

"Gross! I hate you!" He yelled, spitting flour everywhere.

"Liar, you still love me." I pointed out matter of factly, wiping the flour from his eyelids and around his eyes. When his eyes opened, the way his brown irises shimmered in the dim light of the kitchen made my stomach twist.

Those fucking eyes.

Those stupid, awful, beautiful goddamn eyes.

"Yeah." He whispered, his gaze deepening. "I do."

The moment was nice, loving and perfect. And oh how I ached to just kiss him, even though the filthy kitchen wasn't the most romantic place, and the flour on his face and lips were strange, but honestly I couldn't think of a more perfect scene.

I kept thinking, This is romance. This is what novels should have in them, not the stupid, unrealistic, sappy moments that never happened. This is a true love story. This is meant to be.

It was obviously living in the moment wishful thinking, because when a sheepish "um" came from near the entry way of the kitchen, and both of our eyes met the confused, hurt ones of Kellin's, I knew I was wrong.

This wasn't a love story.

This wasn't true romance.

This was wrong, completely wrong, and so were my thoughts.

This wasn't meant to be.