#zigarama

Zig almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the smoke detector going off, nearly knocking over the candle in the center of the table he had been trying to light. He looked down at the table he had prepared and then went back into the kitchen to pull the pizza out of the oven. The smoke hit him as soon as he opened the oven, but the boy grabbed a towel and stuck his hand in regardless, pulling out the hot dish and placing it atop the stove. Once he had silenced the alarm, he peered down at the crispy pizza with a look of concern. A better word than crisp was burnt, but Zig didn't want to admit to himself than he had burnt an oven-ready pizza on his first official date with his first official girlfriend -- particularly when that girlfriend was Frankie. Zig was still inspecting their crispy dinner when he heard the doorbell ring, followed by a hesitant knock. Glancing around the open space to see if he was forgetting anything, he tentatively picked up the cooking sheet with the pizza on it and delivered it to the dining table alongside the candle and plates he had set up. After the second knock at the door, he rushed to the front of the Moreno house to let Frankie in. It had taken quite a bit of pleading between both Imogen and Zig to convince Mr. Moreno that he was actually trying to impress a girl and not just burn down the house -- although in light of the smoke detector he had just turned off, the latter was entirely possible. Stopping at the front door, Zig looked down at his clothing. It was the nicest t-shirt and pair of dark jeans he had. He nodded to encourage himself and then pulled the door open, undoubtedly smiling like an idiot when the opening door revealed his girlfriend. "Hey," Zig greeted, stepping aside to let her in. "Did you find the house okay? I know you've never been here," he went on. "At least I don't think you have..." He laughed nervously.

Frankie's nerves hadn't fully set in until she stepped off at the bus stop closest to the Moreno house. She had successfully distracted herself on the multiple bus route, however now there was nothing to occupy her mind besides the dark, cold walk ahead of her.  The girl's footsteps were slow as she eyed the various house numbers trying to find the one she'd scribbled on the palm of her hand. It wasn't a difficult task, although there was no hesitation for her to prolong the process. Despite eventually finding the house, Frankie awkwardly stood on the sidewalk in front of it. Her stomach had already begun doing flips from just being this close to her first date. She took in a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet, taking quick steps towards the porch and ringing the doorbell as soon as she made it there. Unsure of whether or not the bell worked, she swiftly followed it a precautious knock. When there wasn't an answer after a few seconds, she did it again. She quickly looked up when the door swung open, her eyes slightly widening at the sudden movement. "Hi," Frankie grinned, immediately using one of her hands to cover her mouth out of embarrassment. "Yeah! Yeah. I did," she nodded before stepping through the front door frame. "I haven't," she then lightly shook her head, beginning to unbutton her coat. Slipping it off, she awkwardly held it in her hands, not knowing what she was supposed to do with it. Frankie's brows twitched together as she looked around the house, the smell of burnt food still fresh in the air. Pressing her lips together, she turned back to Zig. "Is something burning?" she softly questioned.

Zig watched Frankie step into the house with a mindless grin on his face. It took several seconds for him to notice her coat awkwardly draped across her hands, and an extra moment for it to dawn on him that he should offer to take it. "Oh, uh, you can give me that," he said, his brows lifting as he extended a hand and took it from her. It was no different from her holding it awkwardly besides the fact that it was his turn. As he led her towards the dining area, Zig glanced around for a spot to put it, ultimately deciding on an ottoman against the wall. Zig's eyes widened at her question. "What?" he asked, mostly buying time. He shoved his hands into his pockets and let out an anxious laugh before ultimately shrugging. "Sort of," he muttered. "It was, but I finally remembered to take it out." Zig chuckled, leaving out the part of his story that involved the smoke detector. "It's just pizza so I hope you like yours extra crispy," he teased. Being with Frankie in this context was new to him. Waking up every morning and knowing that the two of them belonged to one another was still a strange concept to accept, though he never would have phrased it that way to her. Now that the two were an item, he couldn't remember why he had fought his feelings for so long. Even so, he didn't miss the awkward tones that rested among some of their interactions now. "Are you hungry now? If you're not, we could... talk? Yeah, talking's good!"

A mumbled "huh?" fell past Frankie's lips as she felt Zig take her coat from her before following it with a slow "okay". The boy's manner's were definitely catching her off guard -- they were the complete opposite to everything she'd ever learned from him. She willingly followed him, not wanting to get confused in the unfamiliar house. When she heard his answer, Frankie attempted to fight the new grin emerging on her lips. She didn't want to embarrass him by laughing at the situation, but there was no way the girl couldn't find the humor in Zig 'cooking' something. Neither of the two were the type to operate anything in a kitchen besides a microwave. "I like any kind of pizza," she began, letting her face relax as she looked over at him. Taking a few steps towards him, she loosely wrapped her arms around his waist. "But I bet I'll like it the best if it's from you." Frankie took the opportunity to push herself up onto her tip toes to give Zig a kiss on the cheek before nodding at his suggestion. If she could put off eating a burnt pizza she would, even if she had told him she would love it. She removed her hands from his waist, reaching to take one of his hands in hers. "We can talk. About.. whatever! Yeah, about whatever," she finally said, smiling up at him.

Zig grinned proudly at her statement. "Cool," he declared absently. He felt a small wave of relief to know she didn't mind that had slightly screwed up the dinner for their first actual date. If she wasn't going to worry about it, there was no reason for him to worry. His eyes followed her as she moved closer, her tiny arms draping themselves around his waist. "You know I don't mean to brag or anything," Zig began, rolling his eyes upward for emphasis, "but I am the pizza master. You're a lucky girl tonight... luckier than usual, anyway." She was so much shorter than him that he had to crane his neck downward to get a good look at her mouth, but before he could give her the first kiss, her lips touched his cheek, prompting an entirely different smile from the boy. Clasping her small hand in his, he looked towards the dining table. Was he supposed to pull her chair out? Was pulling her chair out too much? "Do you want something to drink?" Zig asked, pushing his worries about the chair away. He was absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand as it rested in his hand, his eyes searching hers. "There's juice and Coke and stuff in the fridge..." The boy trailed off, realizing he wasn't sure what drinks his girlfriend liked aside from hard liquor.

"The pizza master who sort of burnt the pizza?" Frankie countered, curiously raising her brow. Though most people would disagree with Zig calling her lucky in these circumstances, she knew that she was. She was with the guy she wanted to be with and was the happiest she'd been in months; no one's insults directed at either of the two being together was going to change that for her. Her eyes fell to their hands when she felt the subtle movement against hers. Butterflies instantly erupted in Frankie's stomach, causing her to only halfway hear what Zig had offered her. "Coke is good," she finally decided, knowing juice would more than likely taste awful with pizza, especially a burnt one. Being in Imogen's house, Frankie realized that she didn't know what the proper etiquette was to use. At her house, she would have grabbed whatever she wanted and she figured she would have been just as comfortable doing the same had they been at Zig's house. "Should I just.. get it, or.." she quietly trailed off, biting down on her lower lip.

"Hey, sort of is a really important part of that sentence, okay?" Zig returned her look with the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a smirk. He tightened his hold on her hand in the moment that he saw her look down at his thumb rubbing her hand, his signal to her that the action was purposeful. Zig had no experiencing in how to act with a girl in an actual relationship, but many of his actions with Frankie came surprisingly easy to the male. He knew they had done things a little bit backwards, but at least he could say he loved her, even if he wasn't all that smooth at expressing it. He raised a brow as she lingered beside him rather than going to the kitchen, but when he sensed her hesitation, his eyes widened. "Oh, uh-- yeah! Yeah, just go get it," Zig said, waving towards the kitchen. "It's in there." After he spoke, he realized how ridiculous he sounded considering the kitchen was visible from where they stood. "Nobody's here. Nobody besides us, anyway," he chuckled. "Imogen went to her grandma's house with her dad, so it's just us for the night." He pursed his lips and averted his gaze to the ground, feeling his face flush at the admission.

Frankie rolled her eyes at Zig, shaking her head. "Whatever you say, pizza master," she grinned. The tightening hold on her hand caused her to immediately return it as she glanced up at him, her grin softening into something more pleasing. Frankie kept her hold on Zig's hand as she walked towards the kitchen, beginning to tug him along behind her. As clingy as she may have felt, letting go of his hand just wasn't something she wanted to do yet. Once she reached the refrigerator, she was swift to open it with her free hand and grab two bottles of coke for her and Zig. "So.. if they're gone does that mean we're free to make out without it being weird?" she questioned as she turned to face him, using her foot to close the door of the fridge. The idea of hooking up with Zig in someone else's house was both thrilling and terrifying to her and she doubted that she would have even been able to go through with it if they got to that point. "Or we can just cuddle and watch TV after we eat," Frankie then suggested, extending one of the Cokes towards him.

Zig allowed himself to be pulled towards the kitchen with Frankie leading the way. Though his general demeanor with her beforehand had been one of aloofness, he was now almost always stuck with the same goofy expression on his face whenever the two were together. He took a bottle of coke from her with the hand that wasn't clasping firmly to hers. At the mention of making out, Zig blinked. "Yes? No?" He fumbled to speak, a little flustered. He laughed uneasily and looked around the house. He was never one to turn down an offer to make out with his girlfriend, but doing so in Imogen's house seemed a little... dirty, for lack of a better word. He eased at the latter suggestion. "Yeah," he agreed and smiled. "We can work our way up the fun ladder," he joked. Realizing how idiotic he sounded, Zig forced himself to release his hold on Frankie's hand and just went for his earlier dilemma: pulling out her chair. He avoided her eye contact as he did so, his cheeks still flushed from earlier. He glanced up coyly at her and nodded towards the seat, his hands planted firmly on the back of the chair. "We should eat. Burnt pizza can't stay hot forever, you know."

Frankie watched with curiosity as Zig became flustered in front of her; she hadn't expected it from him, considering how smooth he always seemed to be around her. The girl didn't know what kind of answer she wanted to hear from Zig but she found herself being okay with either one of the two. "The fun ladder?" she couldn't help but to laugh, shaking her head. She allowed him to release her hand, immediately bringing both of hers together in front of her. Frankie rose a brow at Zig's actions, confused but ultimately accepting it. "Who knew you were such a gentleman?" she softly teased with a grin. As unfamiliar as she was with this side of Zig, she could already tell that she was going to enjoy it. It was different, but a good different for her. Moving towards the chair he'd pulled out, she sat herself down. "I would say we could reheat it if it did, but.. then it would probably be like, solid black wouldn't it?"

Zig: only flushed further at her comment, unsure if she was impressed with his action or just teasing him. Either option was entirely possible, making his movements a little more hesitant as he dropped his hands to his side and moved to sit in his own seat beside hers. He pretended to scoff at her question. "You wouldn't eat my pizza if it was a little black?" Zig questioned, offering a face of faux concern. After a moment's pause, he added quickly, "But yeah, probably." Shifting his eyes towards the pizza on the table, he stared at it for a moment then bit into his bottom lip. "A knife," Zig said suddenly, "we probably need a knife.." The status of this date as his first had to be showing by this point. He didn't know if Frankie had figured that out, but he was too embarrassed to bring it up. What sophomore guy hadn't been out on a date? Before Frankie, he would have been happy to boast about the women he had hooked up with but not dated. Now it was a piece of information that threatened to ruin her opinion of him; he knew that was ridiculous. She already knew nearly everything about him. Rising from the table, he took a step towards the kitchen and then stopped, pointing to her. "I'll be right back," Zig said before disappearing back into the kitchen to find a knife powerful enough to chop the crisp dinner.

Frankie watched with curiosity as Zig sat down beside of her rather than across the table. She had wanted to ask him to sit next to her but feared looking clingier than she already had. "I already told you I'll like any pizza from you, even if it is black," she rolled her eyes, relaxing into her chair. "A knife?" Frankie turned her head to look at him as he broke the short silence before nodding in agreement. She kept her eyes on him as he got up from the table in search of said knife, her hands awkwardly fiddling with the hem of the table cloth. Once he was out of sight, Frankie reached for the bottle of Coke that she'd gotten earlier. Her hands had quickly grown clammy as the date progressed and she was sure that her nerves were going to get the best of her. Wiping them on the fabric of her jeans to get them as dry as she could, she then twisted the cap of the bottle off. Sugar and caffeine probably weren't the best things to mix with her growing nervousness but it didn't stop her from taking a few large gulps of the soda. Frankie allowed her eyes to glance around the room as she waited on Zig to return, wondering what the Moreno household was like when the Morenos were actually there.

Zig searched the kitchen for a few minutes, opening every drawer he could find. There were several knives that were contenders in the contest for cutting his pizza, but ultimately Zig decided on the biggest and meanest looking knife he could find. Before he left the kitchen, he paused to look down at the knife in his head. "Okay, Novak, don't cut your finger off," he muttered to himself before heading back out to the table where Frankie sat. "Found one," he said to her when he was in earshot, raising the knife for her to see. He immediately lowered it when he realized what a strange action that was. It took Zig more than one try to cut the pizza, and the slices were uneven, but he had surpassed the opportunity to make this perfect. Grabbing a piece for himself and putting it on his plate, Zig sat back down beside Frankie and fiddled with the piece of pizza on his plate before taking a bite. Between small, crunchy bites, his eyes drifted back to her as he spoke. "Do you like the house?" Zig asked. "Sorry I don't have my own place to have dates, but Imogen takes good care of this one at least," he added.

Frankie 's face contorted when she saw the size of the knife Zig had brought back. "What, there wasn't a bigger one?" she questioned once he approached the table and began cutting the pizza. Hearing the crunch every time he put pressure on the pizza caused Frankie to press her lips between her teeth to avoid letting out a laugh. Making him feel worse about the pizza was the last thing she wanted to do. She allowed herself to relax once more and reached for a slice of her own. "Mhm," Frankie nodded at his question. Although she hadn't seen much of it, she wasn't going to negatively judge it; it seemed nice enough for her. "No, it's fine," she shook her head before taking a bite of the hard pizza. Her lips turned upward into a grin with each loud chew, no longer being able to disguise the humor she found in it anymore. "You don't need your own place to have dates.. I mean here is fine, or my house, or your house," she shrugged after swallowing the food.

Zig didn't notice the loud crunch that chewing the pizza made until Frankie began eating her own piece. He stopped in the middle of a bite to look over at her, at first assuming she was doing it to mock him. When he realized it was just the natural work of the burnt pizza, Zig felt another flush hit him, though he couldn't help but laugh. Her positive answer made him smile, but it faltered at the mention of his own apartment. Realizing he had yet to explain the situation to her, he panicked internally. "My house.. right," he muttered. "We're always at your house," Zig said quickly, trying to direct the subject elsewhere. "Besides, I couldn't cook for you at your house. I bet your parents wouldn't like that, and your kitchen is probably as big as my whole room at home," he laughed.

"What's wrong with my house?" Frankie inquired with a furrowed brow, though immediately shook it off, knowing he probably felt uneasy every time he was there. "My parents can suck it," she rolled her eyes, taking another bite of the pizza. After washing it down with some of her Coke, she let out an annoyed sigh. "You can do whatever you want in my kitchen. What's that thing they say? Something casa.. casa, whatever? Like that," Frankie nodded. "'Cause like, my parents are hardly ever there anyways and it's not like they really ever use the kitchen themselves. Just as long as you pay attention when you put stuff in the oven," she teased, nudging his arm with her elbow closest to him. Bringing the slice of pizza back up to her mouth, she began attempting to finish it off.

"What? No, nothing! I didn't mean it like that." Zig pushed out a relented sigh. There was nothing he could say about the Hollingsworth home without sounding wrong on some level. He couldn't mention it making him uncomfortable without upsetting her, and he couldn't express his fondness of the home without seeming like he was just using the girl for a mansion to go to. A little surprised by what she said, he looked up with wide eyes before snorting. "Don't tell them that," he joked. Zig's nose wrinkled. "Casa? Huh?" The point was lost on him, but before he could inquire further, she was talking about something else. His nose still scrunched, his brows knitted together. "That doesn't make sense. How do you guys eat if they don't use the kitchen?" Zig asked, dumbfounded. All the eating they did when he was there was snacking in Frankie's room, but there had to be real meals in the Hollingsworth home, right? His shoulders fell. "C'mon, the pizza's not that bad.." As he spoke, he bent his piece on the plate and watched it crack in half - quite literally, leading to an embarrassed chuckle from the boy.

Frankie turned her head to eye Zig, giving him a knowing look. "You really think my parents are the ones who cook all the food we eat?" she questioned, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know why they're so worried about me messing everything up when it seems they have everyone fooled with their 'perfect family' act," Frankie then mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes once more in the process. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth before immediately releasing it with an inaudible sigh. "There's a cook.. or cooks, I don't know, it's stupid. My mom doesn't even cook anything when we have stupid family parties during the holidays, she just has them catered and it's --" The girl stopped herself, suddenly aware of the small tangent she'd gone on about her family. Her face flushed uncomfortably and she gave an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Frankie had never liked talking about her family to anyone and always made a point not to with Zig, but now it seemed like an unavoidable topic. "It's not. I love the pizza," she stated. She reached for another slice and brought it up to her lips, taking a crunchy bite.

Zig furrowed his brows in confusion at her retorted question, but when the words started pouring out, he realized where she was going with it. In all the time they had known each other Frankie's family had always been a sensitive subject, even when they were just screwing around. Zig didn't know how to take her sudden outburst. He felt a wave of relief that she finally trusted him enough to speak her mind, but it was quickly squashed by the realization that he couldn't do anything to comfort her about it. Looking down at his plate, he smiled softly. "No, you don't," Zig argued, "You're just saying that because you love me.. Right?" He lifted his head up. "Maybe it's okay that your mom pays people to feed you guys. It probably just means she's a really crappy cook," Zig said, offering a small smirk as he spoke.

Frankie could feel her face growing hotter with every passing second that her boyfriend remained silent. It was enough embarrassment to make her want to get up and leave if she was confident enough that her legs would even hold her up. Once he began to speak, she kept her eyes lowered. So maybe she didn't love the taste of the burnt pizza, but she did have a different kind of love for it. One that she couldn't fully explain to Zig even if she'd wanted to. "I'm saying it because I love you and because I love pizza and because I love that you made a pizza for me," Frankie countered after swallowing what food was left in her mouth. "Moms are supposed to be able to cook and do other mom stuff, not pay people to do it. But I don't want to talk about her 'parenting' anymore and I'm sorry for bringing it up," she added on, placing the half-eaten slice of pizza back on her plate.

Zig's smile widened. Doing nice things for a change was a new concept to him. Even during instances when he had done something for Imogen or Grace, he didn't put his full effort into it because he knew he messed most things up. And even though he had screwed up the pizza, it wasn't for a lack of effort; the fact that Frankie recognized that and appreciated the simple gesture made his stomach and chest feel warm and full, a feeling he couldn't summarize without sounding like an idiot. He pursed his lips and returned to silence when she dismissed her mother as a topic. Bringing up his own mother crossed his mind, but he quickly squashed it. He didn't want Frankie feeling worse than she already did. "Let's see you make a better pizza next time," Zig said, his tone challenging. "We could have a pizza off. Or a macaroni off. Or... We could just eat a lot of food." Zig chuckled. He reached out and touched her hand with his as a sign of his fondness for her presence even in his moment of silly joking.

"Oh, you don't want me trying to make a pizza," Frankie quickly responded, shaking her head at the idea of her trying to successfully make any kind of food for the two. "It wouldn't even be edible. Like, remotely." Thinking to herself for a moment, she pressed her brows together. "Or maybe you do want me trying to make a pizza just so you can win," she concluded, using her one of her index fingers to playfully poke him in the chest. When she felt his hand on hers, she reacted by turning it upward so that she could lace her fingers with his. Frankie then leaned over, lazily resting her head against his shoulder. "I never thought any of this would be happening," she softly mumbled. "Me and you, like this, you know? It's kind of weird.. but, I like it," the girl continued, feeling as though she was mostly speaking to herself. From her past with Zig, to everything everyone had told her about him and her feelings towards him, Frankie had practically convinced herself that it was entirely useless. "And I'm glad that you're the one I'm doing the awkward stuff like first dates with," she grinned, looking up at him.

Zig raised his index finger and waved it in front of her. "Hey, no ruining the master plan for me," he told her jokingly. "Besides, if you're such a bad cook, you can't laugh at my burnt pizza." Lowering his gaze to the charred remnants of cheese and sauce on his plate, he pushed out a sigh. "If you can even call it that..." When her head touched his shoulder, he instinctively leaned his down to rest on hers. It was a little painful to be craning his neck far enough to make it possible, but he didn't mind. Heat spread up the back of his neck as she spoke. "It's really weird. Like... weirder than weird. But the best weird." Zig looked down to return her gaze. "And me too. Because you're the only person who would've gotten what I just said," he laughed, "or that would eat the pizza I kill."

Frankie scrunched her face and rolled her eyes. "I can laugh at your burnt pizza, because you burnt a pizza. But you could laugh at mine, too," she explained with another grin. Carefully manuevering her body so that she was out of her chair and in Zig's lap, she let her legs hang off either side of his chair as she faced him. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, letting them loosely rest against the fabric of his shirt. "I don't think anyone but us gets us," she shrugged. It had been annoying for her to receive criticism about her relationship from almost everyone she'd come in contact with, despite hardly any of them personally knowing anything about it, though it wasn't enough for her to truly care about their comments. "But I'm okay with that because it's our relationship, not theirs." Frankie leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips before relaxing into his lap. "Your pizza wasn't that bad, but we can go ahead and skip to the movie if you want."

Zig rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have made you pizza if I knew you were so picky," he replied, but the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. Once she was positioned in his lap, he placed his hands on her hips and smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her tiny middle and pulling her body in. He realized that Frankie got the brunt of gossip about everything that happened, whether it be the abortion or their relationship. If he could have changed that he would have, but he opted to stick with protecting her. Zig lifted a hand and brushed some stray hair behind the girl's ear just after the kiss broke. "I like us," Zig said quietly, looking back down at her mouth. He kissed her once more before replying. "Do you think we can watch the movie just like this?" Zig inquired with a lifted brow, squeezing her small frame.

Frankie allowed herself to be pulled closer to Zig, adjusting her lower half accordingly. "I can't be too picky if I'm dating you, right?" she attempted to question with a straight face, though it faltered almost immediately. "Kidding, kidding. I like us too." A light sigh of relief fell from Frankie's lips as she eyed the boy who was only inches from her face. Her stomach erupted with butterflies but she kept her cool, staying relaxed in his grip. "I don't think we can see the TV from in here," she teased, tilting her head to the side in feigned confusion. She slowly connected her hands together behind his neck, keeping her gaze on Zig. "But I'm sure this," she paused, using her eyes to survey their position, "can be arranged on the couch."

Zig made a face that signaled mock interest at Frankie's sense of humor. The two had always been sarcastic towards each other, but their approaches had shifted from being snarky to being playful. He never knew he could enjoy the dynamic of a relationship so much. Before accepting how he felt about Frankie, Zig had done everything possible to stay unattached, and now he couldn't remember why. "I like us more," Zig cooed, smiling as Frankie's cool hands touched the back of his neck. He turned his own head to the side, opposite hers, and pretended to consider her proposition. "Do you think the couch can handle our level of cuddling?" Zig asked, his face completely serious through the joke. "It's not as big as your bed.. or your couch," he mused aloud.

Frankie mimicked Zig’s expression, though it was even more over-exaggerated than his. “You sound like a little kid,” she grinned, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “But I like us most,” she quickly countered as their faces were still close together. Taking in a deep breath, she released it with ease. She was becoming more comfortable with being around Zig like this -- like normal, functioning people -- as the time passed, although he still caused consistent butterflies in her  stomach. Once Frankie finally leaned back into her original position, gently narrowing her eyes at him. “Something tells me if this chair can handle it, the couch should be okay,” she stated with a nod. “But I don’t know.. I mean your butt is pretty big, so...” Frankie trailed off, raising both of her brows.

Zig offered her a mocking scowl. "Fine," he said with furrowed brows, "but you win the battle, Frankie. Not the war." He wiggled a warning finger in front of her before smirking and lowering his hand back to her side. This type of interaction was far different than anything the two had ever done before a few weeks ago. Prior to then, the two couldn't even be around each other without being drunk or just fighting. Looking at Frankie now, Zig wondered silently to himself if that had been a sign that they loved each other a long along. Some part of Zig thought maybe he did, but he didn't want to put that into words and risk sounding like a fool. At her faux insult, Zig's jaw fell open. He gaped at her with wide eyes, struggling to keep the smile off his face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Zig chided, giving her a nudge to move her small frame off of him so he could stand up. "If you love me, you have to love the butt too!"

“Oh I’ll definitely win the war,” Frankie stated in a matter of fact tone, the expression on her face equally as confident. It softened within a few moments of watching his reaction to her ‘insult’. Rather than admitting he was right and that she already did, she stayed quiet, glancing down at his gentle nudging. Frankie scrunched her face, taking the hint to climb off of his lap. She gave a simple shrug of her shoulders at his request, turning her head to look away from him for a moment. Once she could tell he was up and out of his chair, she took a step forward to give a swift and firm smack to his butt. A large grin emerged on her lips as she quickly turned away from him to run towards the living room, not bothering to wait and see his reaction to the hit.

"Little too confident for someone your size, don'tcha think?" Zig questioned with squinted eyes and a small smirk. Any other couple acting the same way would have been him roll his eyes, and he was almost certain Frankie felt the same; but between the two of them, it just felt normal. Having someone to be stupid with was better than he had expected. Her hand's swift connection to his backside genuinely surprised him. He widened his eyes and turned to follow her retreating form without hesitation, chasing her into the living room and catching her by the waist as she neared the couch. Zig pushed her onto the couch playfully, hovering over her but being certain not to crush her. As he pinned her arms above her head, he narrowed his eyes. "That's it. No more Mr. Nice Zig," he said seriously, "are you ready for your punishment?" Zig gazed at her with a serious expression for a few seconds, then leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose dramatically.

Frankie let out a squeal as she felt Zig’s embrace from behind her. Once she hit the couch she rolled into her back, immediately being met with the boy’s face. The view was something obviously familiar to her, although it wasn’t taking her long to realize that she enjoyed this variation of it; the simplicity of it was fun and she knew she wouldn’t have to leave after a few minutes. She attempted to keep from grinning as she looked up at him, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. At his question she grew curious, slowly nodding her head the best that she could. She had assumed that with her arms above her head he would’ve tried tickling her and was relieved when she only received a kiss to the nose. She couldn’t help but to quietly laugh before pushing her chin upward to meet his lips while he was still close to her.

Zig smiled against Frankie's mouth as her lips met his. He lowered his body slightly to touch hers, deepening the kiss. When he was finally ready for air, he pulled back but kept his face close. "I told you the couch couldn't handle it," he teased, speaking quietly as his face still hovered just over hers. He glanced between her and the TV across the room. "We probably can't watch the movie like this," Zig stated, raising a brow. He laughed to himself and then carefully climbed off of her so as not to crush any part of her body, including her legs. He took a seat beside her and pointed to the Moreno's collection of DVDs. "You have to pick if you don't wanna watch a scary movie," he told her.

Frankie could feel her heart begin to race as the pressure of Zig above her became heavier. She had no intentions of going any further than what they were doing and she didn't think Zig did either, however it didn't prevent her from getting an anxious feeling in her stomach. "We haven't even gotten to the cuddling yet," she softly responded. "And I wouldn't care to watch it like this," she then grinned. It quickly turned into a pout as she felt Zig move off of her and she sat up, adjusting herself until she was in a comfortable position. "I don't feel like picking," Frankie shrugged, turning to look over at Zig. "But if it's a scary movie then that means I'll want to be closer to you, so.." she trailed off, tilting her head.