#d-05

Caleb makes the best hot chocolate, no doubt. No matter how often you try to recreate it, even though you are doing it with the same measurements as the ones he had written down for you, there will always be something missing. You always thought he had left something out on purpose, but it’s only years later when thinking the world has taken the person most precious to you away from you, you realize it’s him that is missing. The familiar comfort, the thought of sharing a delicious drink with him - that’s what was different.

“What is my pips thinking about so hard that she doesn’t come and fetch her drink, hm?”

A steaming mug is placed on the table as Caleb goes and sits down across from you. He’s wearing that cozy sweater you two recently got during your shopping trip and hasn’t stopped wearing since. He knows how much you like it, the soft fabric ideal to lean up against.

“Nothing”, you respond, reaching for the cup to test how warm it is - too hot to drink still, but hot enough to warm your hands on, “Just that I absolutely love the hot chocolate you make”

Caleb raises an eyebrow, “That won’t win you another marshmallow, pips, you know that, right? Two is the limit, it’s way too sweet otherwise.”

“Shucks”, you grin, and watch as Caleb takes out the bag of marshmallows to fish out exactly three: two for you, one for him. He plops them into your mugs, careful so he doesn’t accidentally spill any of it. You watch the marshmallow - like a little pillow that is swimming on the surface but slowly but surely sinking to the bottom. 

Your mouth is already salivating from thinking about how it’s going to taste. 

“Do you want some whipped cream?”, Caleb asks as he goes to take a sip even though you are sure it’s still piping hot, but he doesn’t look like he minds.

“You were just telling me that three marshmallows are too much and now you are asking me if I want whipped cream?”, you laugh, and Caleb grins. “You always had it with whipped cream when we were young”, he explains, “I had to make some as well, just in case”

“And the chocolate sprinkles?”

“Got them. They have been sitting in the cupboard waiting for you to come over.”

“You are pampering me too much.”

He takes another sip, but this time it seems he accidentally got too much, so he lets out a small hiss, sticking out his tongue. “You like it though”, he smirks.

Caleb helps you with putting on the whipped cream and you put way too many sprinkles on it that it almost overflows. After taking a big gulp now that it’s cooled down a bit, you hum at the familiar taste, the nostalgia that came with this drink that reminds you of cherished memories, warm hugs and the man sitting in front of you.

It reminds you of all the times you had it when you were younger: on a snowy day, when you would spend hours trying to build little snow huts together. Caleb would have you sit at the dinner table, patiently waiting as he is standing in front of the stove, heating up some milk. He would be way too young himself; a little wooden stool placed on the floor so he could comfortably lean over the pot. Only when you needed to pour the hot chocolate in your mugs, he would ask for grandma to help, afraid he would accidentally spill it like he once did in the past. 

He would always finish decorating your mug first, always give you the marshmallows when there were only two left. And you two would sit together, wrapped in a blanket, enjoying the sweet taste while talking about your plans to build a snowman the next day.

Even when you got older, Caleb would still make your favorite hot chocolate. On cold winter nights, when you are busy studying for exams and need to stay up late, he would quietly sneak up behind you and place the cup on a little coaster for you. When you are too stressed out, he would leave a note along with it; little phrases of motivation written on it that would help you stay up longer and finish that one chapter you needed to read through. 

The little gesture of warmth that you took as self-evident. You truly missed it when Caleb left for the academy and after you started living alone.

But now that he is back, it feels like a different kind of sweetness. One, which you feel like you cannot let go of anymore.

“Oh, this is the best part”, you show him your cup, almost empty but a lot of whipped cream left, “This will taste like heaven” you explain, “And the chocolate sprinkles? Round up the taste and give it that certain something”

Caleb looks at you like you are crazy, but he laughs instead. “You are way too into this”, he says, but you shush him.

You take one big swig, the whipped cream mixed with the hot chocolate and the taste of marshmallows tasting just like how you expect a cloud to taste like. Sweet, fluffy and incredibly pillowy. 

Caleb laughs out loud when you look back at him. “There’s way too much whipped cream”, he says, leaning forward to sweep his thumb across your lips. Without thinking twice, he brings the same thumb up to his lips and swipes his tongue across it. 

You gulp, loudly, feel the warmth of the drink rush up to your head, or maybe that’s just what Caleb does to you. He grins, “Hm?”, he asks, “What’s up?”