Yes; Lydia's stomach demands it

Lydia paused for a long time. “Okay, I do really need food.”

Creeeak went the hinges as I slowly, carefully opened the door. Seeing no one around, we snuck to the top landing of the stairs, holding hands for courage. The TV was on downstairs, but no one was around. Hopefully my father was in his study.

We made our way downstairs and then to the kitchen quietly, making sure to dodge around windows as much as possible. Perversely, some part of me was having fun sneaking around, even if I could tell that Lydia wasn’t enjoying it at all.

Lasagna successfully acquired, we clambered back into my bedroom. She looked cute eating in the nude: natural, raw, animalalian. A small drop of sauce fell on her left breast, and I pretended not to notice.

“So, when should you be back by?” I asked.

“Oh I’m spending the night here. I--If that’s okay.”

“Oh, sure”

“My mom was really mad and I didn’t want to be around her anymore. She said she would pick us up in the morning so she could make sure I was still… you know.”

I sighed. Well, if Lydia was staying here then she needed a bed, so I pulled the trundle out from under my bed and made it with the sheets and blankets from my closet. It was a warm summer evening, but I had a feeling both of us would be using our blankets tonight.

We just hung out for a couple hours, watching a bit of a show, talking, fidgeting a bit with crafts. By that point it was my bedtime, and we both decided that we should get as much sleep as possible to prepare us for tomorrow. Sleep came surprisingly quickly, and my last thought before I drifted off was that neither my mother nor my father ever came in to check on us.