Lunchtime in the Kitchen

It's jarring just how abruptly the dynamic between you and your sister has changed. While you were scrubbing obscenities off your body, you were utterly certain that Theresa despised you, only thinking of you as a sponge for whatever insult or prank that popped into her head. Now, though... you're walking side by side in the hall, playfully grinning at each other on your way to the kitchen. You're rather disappointed in yourself that it was so easy to forgive your sister and move forward, but... you've always been one of those sappy "love conquers all" types, so it doesn't come as a big surprise.

It's nice. You still can't shake the nervous buzz cycling through you, but you cling to the hope that things will only get better from here.

Before entering the kitchen, you lay down some ground rules with Tess. First, you both agree that you should be less explicit about the way your power works around others. She's curious to see how people respond to your ability without being in on the scheme. She also wants to try and give you a firsthand account of how whatever cosmic **** driving this ability affects her mind.

"It's a bit embarrassing," she admits, "but even when you wrote your name right in front of me, I kinda... blanked out for a second, as if I wasn't allowed to fully process the act of claiming something. If I had to guess, I would say that your power warps memories just a bit, to make it unclear exactly when ownership took place, while also normalizing the concept itself."

Jeez, and that's just a guess? Having your super-smart sister on your side is going to be a bigger boon than you thought. You add, "Good to know all those times you were called a genius were valid." This sets Theresa's cheeks alight, but she nods to you.

"Ohh, that's tingly," She mutters. "I usually don't think too strongly about a single compliment, but that felt really nice."

You pause in the hallway, raising your eyebrow. "Do you think it's related to ownership?"

"I dunno, maybe? Compliment me again." She runs her teeth over her bottom lip playfully at you, eyes twinkling with mischief. This could easily just be a ploy to milk praise from you, but there's no harm in playing along.

"Alright...hm. Well, that face you just made is really cute. Like, if you weren't my sister, I'd be weak in the knees with those eyes on me."

Theresa shudders, patting her cheeks with her fingers. "Okay, yeah, it must be 'cause you own me. Your words make my heart all fluttery. Also, do you really think I'm cute?" Performing a classic move, she bats her eyelashes at you while twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.

You roll your eyes, trying to keep some pink off your own cheeks. "Nope, you're a toad. Total bullfrog, not cute at all."

Theresa lets out an offended gasp, but only bats your shoulder with a giggle. "Asshole! Hee... that's the banter I've been looking for. Don't hold back on my account. You owe me some serious slander, Bubby."

"Why are you calling me that, all of a sudden?" You don't wait for an answer, continuing down the hall expecting your sister to follow you.

"I dunno, it feels right," she admits. "Besides, your face gets red every time and I think it's cute. If you wanted me to stop, you'd have ordered me to. I think you liiiike it. Isn't that right, Buuubby?" Okay, maybe she's a little too smart.

Marker in hand and sister at your side, the two of you make your way into the kitchen, taking in the mild but comforting scent of chopped vegetables. Both Mom and Dad are at the counter; a rare occasion! You hear the sharp, rhythmic click of a knife at work, accompanied by your mother's soft humming. Having your father help her out in the kitchen always puts her in a good mood. She glances back as the two of you enter, smiling warmly.

"Everything alright now, kids?"

Theresa answers for the two of you, smiling brightly. "Yup, all good! We had a much-needed talk and we're best buds again." You suppress your skepticism, even as your sister wraps an arm around your shoulders for a squeeze. Seeing the way her gesture makes Mom positively glow is good enough to reciprocate, taking Theresa by the hip and smiling along.

"Well, that's wonderful! You two go ahead and have a seat. Teddy and I will be done here in just a minute." Your father, Theodore, only lets his wife get away with that silly nickname, answering her with a light hip bump. You swear Mom's bubbly laugh could slay a man with how sweet it is. 'Teddy' is a lucky man.

While your parents wrap up lunch prep, your sister disengages from you, raising her eyebrows and motioning her head. You watch her eyes flick to the marker in your hand, silently telling you to try it out. You nod, walking up to the kitchen table, looking it over. Four plates and sets of cutlery have already been set out, resting on a simple blue tablecloth. Popping the cap off the marker, you write your name right on the center of one of the plates. Satisfied, you take a seat opposite the plate you wrote on and wait patiently.

Your sister seems... less satisfied. Idea in mind, she snags the marker from you and also writes your name on another plate. She then mirrors you, sitting opposite that particular plate, putting herself on your right side. She hands you back the marker and whispers, "Might as well double down the experiments, right? I think it worked, though!" You just nod for now, tense in your seat as you anticipate results.

A few moments later, your parents turn around with a bowl of fresh tossed salad and a tray of quartered sandwiches. Dad cooks about as well as you do (read: not at all), so you figured if he were helping out that it would be something easy. Simple food is the best food, though, and you happily snag a sandwich from the tray just as it touches the table. Before seating themselves, your parents pause, inspecting the plates with curious looks.

"Gavin sweetie," says mom, "I figured you would have wanted to use your own plates. Do you mind if we borrow them for lunch?"

You chew quickly while giving your sister a knowing glance. After a swallow, you nod. "Go ahead Mom, I don't mind." Theresa stifles a giggle, fist over her mouth.

Your parents look visibly relieved, taking their seats and collecting portions for themselves. Dad raises a cold cut your way in a 'cheers' gesture with a grin. "Nice of ya there, Gavin, thanks." Whoa. Two instances of praise from Dad in the same day? This stuff is magic.

Basking in this small success, you take time to eat and enjoy a surprisingly cozy atmosphere with the family. Usually by now Theresa would be souring the moment with a jab at your weight or, on a good day, coldly ignoring your very existence. Today, the conversation is mild, but pleasant. Your mother is keen on something being different, but either she can't place it or has chosen not to say.

"So, do either of you have plans today?" Mom asks. You glance at your sister, who shrugs with a mouthful of salad.

"I haven't really thought about it," you answer. "I guess it'd be nice to hang out with Tess while we've got her for the weekend."

"If that's what you want," Theresa adds after a swallow. "You're the boss, Bubby."

The look your parents give her puts a dubious grin on your sister's face.

"Bubby??" They ask in unison. Your face heats up instantly, and you jam salad into your mouth.

Theresa just keeps grinning. "What? I used to call him that all the time."

"Yeah, when you were kids," Dad grumbles. "Don't you think you two are a little old for that?"

"Well, if Bubby doesn't like it, all he has to do is say so." Man, even now she finds ways to tease you. It feels different, though...

"I don't really mind, I guess." You sigh, trying to smile a bit. "It reminds me of when we got along better. I wouldn't mind a chance to get closer to my sister again after all this time."

No one at the table was ready for that answer, either. Theresa's face goes bright red, while Mom lights up all over again.

"That's wonderful, sweetie!" Mom reaches over the table, patting your hand. "To be honest, I was a little concerned when we noticed that you owned Tess, but I'm sure it will be fine now. You're such a good boy, I know you'll take good care of her."

"Of course, Mom. I love Tess, I wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

Theresa audibly shudders, blushing brightly. She punches your arm lightly, staring at the table. "Sh-shut up, Bubby. Don't be all sappy like that." Well, now that's interesting. It looks like the stronger the compliment you give, the stronger that 'fluttery' feeling the person receives. Perhaps the intent of the words also influences it? You'll have to try some more, and the vindictive glee of seeing her squirm is a fun bonus.

Trying to calm herself down, Theresa nudges you with her elbow. "Hanging out sounds nice, but do you have any bigger plans?" Her eyebrows bounce again, obviously alluding to you using your marker some more.