Emilia's POV

Thanksgiving has to be one of my favorite holidays. I remember when my parents would wake up early to start preparing everything and begin cooking the food for dinner while I slept in. Not to mention all the great food that they would make for me. I swear my mom's stuffing was the best and my dad could've won an award with his heavenly tasting mashed potatoes. Good times.

Now that they're gone, I don't get to sleep in anymore. I mean I could, but since I'm actually having a Thanksgiving dinner with all my friends this year and not just Julia, I have to start preparing things early since there are more mouths to feed. And since Ash and I are baking the desserts, we have to start first since it takes the longest and the alarm going off from his phone isn't letting me forget that.

I turn my body onto its side away from the loud sound and curl myself into the blanket. "Ash, shut it off," I mumble.

He groans next to me and shuffles around, turning the alarm off quickly. He moves back over to me and wraps his arm over my waist from under the blanket and nuzzles his head into my neck. "Do we have to get up?" he asks groggily.

"Unfortunately," I say, burying my face deeper into the blanket. "What time is it?"

"Five I think."

I regret telling him to set the alarm to such a terrible hour. It sounded like a good idea last night. We'd be up before everyone else and get started on baking faster so that when everyone finally does wake up, we could just go take a nap after all our hard work. Now it just sounds stupid and I just want to go back to bed. I turn my body back around and snuggle up to Ashton's warm, bare chest, not even attempting to open my eyes anytime soon.

"You know," Ashton starts, "we could just say 'screw everyone' and stay here in bed. I'm quite comfortable here."

"But desserts..." I whine.

He chuckles huskily and wraps me tighter in his arms. "Fine, but I don't want to hear any complaining from here on until the end of the day because it was your idea to wake up this early."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, pushing myself out of his arms and sitting up straight.

I rub my eyes with my fists before stretching out my arms and letting out a long yawn. When I hear the sound of a camera shutter, I turn and face Ashton who is holding up his phone which is aimed straight at me.

"Did you just-"

"Yup." He grins, turning the phone around and showing me the photo.

"My hair looks like the aftermath of the tornado that hit Dorothy's house in the Wizard of Oz," I say, looking at myself in the picture. "I look absolutely terrible."

"I think you look beautiful," he says, staring at the image in his hand with a smile spreading across his face.

"Isn't that what all boyfriends tell their girlfriends when they hate a picture of themselves?"

"Only if they don't want to get in trouble," he jokes, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm kidding."

"Ha ha."

"But seriously, regardless of if you look like a tornado took a stroll through your hair or that you look completely exhausted, you're still beautiful. And if you can't see that, then I guess I need to buy you a better mirror."

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and bow my head sheepishly, feeling flushed and full of happiness. "It's too early to be cheesy, Ash," I tease and he laughs. "But thank you."

"Anytime." He grins and tosses the blanket off of us before getting swinging his long legs over the bed. "You do realize that I'm going to embarrass the crap out of you with my cheesiness all the time, right?"

"I've realized that a long time ago," I say, chuckling lightly and jumping off the bed. "It's not one of my favorite traits of yours, but it's cute."

"How can you not like my cheesiness?" He places his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "I lava you," he coos, breaking out into a large grin and pulling me into a bear hug.

"Oh my god." I shake my head, holding back the laughter that's building up in my chest. "That has to be the worst one yet."

"But you lava it."

"You're such an idiot," I say, lovingly.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was."

"Good." He pecks my lips swiftly and releases me from his grasp. "You can shower first while I go make something for us to eat."

"You know, for such a large house, you'd think there'd be more than one bathroom." I bend down to reach the small duffle bag by Ashton's dresser that Julia brought me from home and I pick it up. I had asked her to bring me some clothes as well as my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. The last time I took a shower here, I came out smelling like a guy and I'd rather not have a repeat of that.

Ashton walks around me and over to his closet where he pulls out a black sweater and a pair of black jeans before throwing them on the bed. I never really though black on black would look good, but from the many times that I've seen him wear that color combination, I've grown to like it.

"You can thank the people who built this place for that," he says. "You don't know how difficult it is to share a bathroom with three other guys."

"No, but I can imagine." I can just picture them shoving each other out of the way to get in there first.

"Let's just say there's never a dull morning because of that."

"I don't doubt it." I chuckle, taking my bag to the bathroom and locking the door behind me.

__

After taking a shower and successfully making the bathroom smell like a basket of fruit, I head downstairs and into the kitchen where Ashton places a plate of eggs onto the bar. I take a seat on the barstool, grabbing the fork on the plate and cutting into the fluffy eggs.

"It was supposed to be an omelet, but when I tried to flip it, my wrist cramped up and it folded the wrong way and I couldn't move it back in time before it started cooking, so now you have scrambled eggs," Ashton rambles.

"It's fine, Ash," I say. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He kisses my temple before jogging up the stairs to go take a shower.

After eating the eggs, I wait for him to finish his shower which doesn't take long at all. He comes down and enters the kitchen clad in black with a hunter green bandana around his forehead, keeping his hair in place.

"So what are we making?" Ashton asks, pulling out the flour and other dry ingredients that I list out for him from the pantry.

"Cherry pie, pumpkin pie, and didn't you say your mom taught you how to make an apple pie?" I really should have thought of more desserts to make other than pie...

"That's a bit of a pie overload, don't ya think?" He raises his eyebrow and smirks, placing the jar container of sugar on the island while I stick my tongue out at him. "But yes, she did."

"You can never have too much pie," I joke, although it's true. "So which one should we work on first?"

"Probably the apple, just because it's the most time-consuming."

I agree and pull out the mixing bowls from underneath the counter. After spending so much time at Ash's house, I pretty much know where all the dishes are placed so he doesn't have to tell me where things are anymore. We try to be as quiet as we possibly can so that we don't wake up the others, but it's pretty damn hard when you have to use a loud mixer to mix the dough for the pie shells. Thankfully, even when Ashton 'accidentally' let his finger slip on the switch, causing it to turn on the highest setting and throw flour in every direction, including my face, no one wakes up.

Making the dough for all three pies is the hardest part, and once we got it out of the way, everything goes along faster. I roll out the dough since Ashton still can't put a lot of pressure on his wrist while he begins washing and peeling the apples. After I get the dough to the right thickness, I lay it in the pie shell to shape it and do the same for the other two. I make sure to leave some dough left over for the top of the apple and cherry pies.

I help Ash slice the apples which he constantly tries to feed to me instead of keeping them for the pie, and sweeten them with sugar and cinnamon before filling the shell with them and layering the extra dough over it. If Ashton hadn't fed me so many apple slices then the pie would actually be nice and have a rounded top, but now it's just flat and mediocre.

"This is a pathetic looking pie, no offense," I say, using a knife to cut four slits into the center of the crust before shoving it in the oven.

"No, I couldn't agree more." He chuckles, leaning against the island and waiting for me to come back over so that I can finish making the other two pies.

Since we're lazy and tired of putting so much effort into baking, we decide to use the canned pumpkin and cherry pie fillings and just pour them into the pie shells. We don't want to spend another hour on each of these and make them from scratch so we take the easy way out.

With the leftover dough for the top crust of the cherry pie, I cut long, thin strips and begin positioning them horizontally over the pie and then vertically, leaving small squares of the cherry filling visible.

"What are you doing?" Ashton asks, crossing his arms over the counter and leaning on them.

"I'm making a lattice crust," I respond, fixing the strips to make sure they're even. "My mom used to do this with her pies when we baked together. Hers looked better than mine though. I still don't know how she got it to look so perfect."

"Well, she's a mom. Moms always do things perfect."

"That totally makes me feel good about mine right now."

"I mean yours looks absolutely perfect." He grins, showing off his teeth and I roll my eyes. "It looks a lot better than the apple pie."

"That was your fault." I point my finger at him before grabbing the cherry pie and sticking it in the oven followed by the pumpkin pie. "You kept shoving apples in my mouth."

"You didn't have to eat them," he says.

"What was I supposed to do? Spit them out? That'd be a waste. I was hungry and I don't know self-control."

"So it's both our fault," he says, widening his grin.

As much as hate to admit it, he's right. I really need to learn self-control. "I guess, but you're taking most of the blame if it comes out terrible."

He shrugs. "Fine by me."

We continue to 'fake' bicker as we clean up the mess that we made, blaming each other for using too many dishes and not considering buying pre-made pies while we were at the store. I handle washing the dishes while Ashton cleans off the counters and removes the white flour that's sprinkled on top of it. Once the timer on the microwave turns off, I hurry and put on a green oven mitt and take all three pies out; each one revealing a nice golden-brown crust.

"Not bad," I say, impressed by the results.

Ashton comes to my side and examines the pies. "Even the apple one looks good. It's sinking in the middle, but it still looks good."

I chuckle lightly and turn off the oven. "And that's why you don't feed me the apples we use for the pie."

"But you looked so cute while eating them, like a chipmunk." He pokes my cheek and I swat my hand at him. He laughs and proceeds to wrap his arm around my back, pulling me close to him and planting a kiss on my cheek.

"I'm not a chipmunk," I pout.

"No, you're cuter than a chipmunk."

Breaking us away from each other is the violent opening of a door from upstairs followed by heavy footsteps.

"I smell pie!" Michael yells as he comes down the stairs, tripping over his feet as he enters the kitchen half asleep.

"No, no, no." I say to him. "Michael Clifford, if you touch any of these pies, so help me God, I will slay you."

"Geez, Emmie, tone it down to like a four. I won't touch them," Michael says, rubbing his eyes. "Ashton, control your woman." I throw the over mitt that's still on my hand at Michael and laugh as he cowers like a little girl.

"Sorry man, but you asked for it," Ashton says to Michael who is rubbing the side of his head with his hand where the over mitt hit him.

Two more doors from upstairs open and Julia, Calum and Luke join us. They each look like they've been up for a while and are actually mentally here unlike Michael who is still trying to wake up, although, I think the oven mitt to the head did the trick for him.

"Isn't it a bit early to threaten to slay people, Em?" Julia asks, placing her hands on her wide hips and smiles while shaking her head at me.

"Probably," I reply nonchalantly.

"Okay honey, I think you need to get out of the kitchen," she says and I nod.

I'm okay with that.

After checking out our pies and mocking the apple one, Ashton and I leave them to work on dinner while we lounge around in the living room. We spend our afternoon sitting in the living room, conversing with our friends from across the room, and occasionally falling asleep while they cook dinner. Every once in a while, they would make us taste-test the food which I was happy to do.

Julia put Calum in charge of the turkey which he forgot to put in water like I told him to. Apparently, when Julia called him last night, he got 'distracted' by her 'lovely' voice and forgot to put it in like we said. Oh, did he get an earful from her. She made him spend a good three hours figuring out how to defrost it, which he somehow managed to do with hot water and a lighter.

Other than that little setback, the rest of the cooking goes smoothly and they actually finish early. Michael and I are barely hanging on a thread with our hunger so we decide to just eat now instead of waiting. We each take a dish into the large dining room of theirs and place it in the center of the long table before taking a seat. Michael and Luke sit on the short ends of the table while Cal, Julia, Ash, and I sit across from each other on the long ends.

It's so weird having so many people at the table. I'm so used to it being just my parents, or Julia's family, or just Julia. Being surrounded by people that I've grown to care so much about in such a short amount of time, people that I've created relationships with; it's amazing. The atmosphere is almost suffocating with all the laughter and happiness that we share together, but it's also livening. It's addictive and I can't get enough of it. As I glance at everyone around me while they dive into their food, I can't help but to smile at each of them. We're immature and don't act remotely close to our age, but that's who we are.

These people are my family and I couldn't be more thankful for them.

As I slip a piece of turkey in my mouth a hand reaches under the table and lands firmly on my knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb over my jeans while shoving a fork full of mashed potatoes in his mouth. Easily, he's the one who I'm most thankful for.

I wipe my mouth with the red cloth napkin by my plate and raise my wine glass in the air and slowly, the others raise theirs. "I'm honestly not sure how to make a toast, so I'm not even going to attempt to sound all sentimental and whatnot, so let's just clink glasses and eat our hearts out," I say, making the others laugh. We all tap each other's glasses, letting the loud rings from the glass-on-glass contact fill the air as we take a sip of the red wine within our cups.

"I don't think any of us could have given a better toast than that. Bravo, Emmie," Michael says. He slow claps and I contemplate pelting him with the bread rolls in the wicker basket across the table from me.

"Leave her alone," Julia scolds. "Like you could do a better job."

He smirks and pushes his chair back, standing to his feet and clearing his throat. "To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep-No more-and by a sleep to say we end, The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks, That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation, Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub-"

I cut him off. "You can't just take an excerpt from Hamlet and call it a toast, you idiot!" This time I actually throw a bread roll at him. He ducks and the roll hits the wall, bouncing down onto the floor.

"Why do you have that memorized anyway?" Luke asks, dropping his fork onto his half-eaten plate.

He shrugs. "I was bored. I found the book in Ashton's desk drawer and I decided to read it."

"You went into my desk?" Ashton says defensively, quickly removing his hand from my knee and placing it roughly on the table. "When did you go in there? Did you get anything else?"

"A few weeks ago and no, that was all I took," Michael says, confusion looming in his eyes.

If there wasn't tension in the room before, there is now. I don't know why Ash is getting so worked up over Michael snooping into his desk drawer.

Everyone's eyes flicker between the calm Michael and nervous Ashton until Ashton finally sighs and apologizes. Michael brushes it off and tells him that it's okay and returns to sitting back down. I place my hand on Ashton's knee to help calm him down and his entire demeanor changes to happiness from my simple touch.

Calum stands from his seat and picks up his and Julia's empty plates and walks over to the kitchen sink to wash them. "So, Ash," Calum starts, "what are you hiding in your desk? Condoms?" He laughs to himself.

Ashton's eyes go wide and he quickly turns to me. "There aren't any condoms in there," he says to me.

"No, he probably keeps them in his wallet," Calum says. He returns into the dining room, grinning and winking at me.

"Or in his sock drawer," Michael snickers.

"Son of a bitch," Ashton mumbles, face palming, and I giggle at them.

Calum and Michael always know how to ease the tension in any given situation. They can be little shits most of the time, but they're the calming force that we need in our little group.

"I'd hate to end this wonderful game of 'where are Ashton's condoms,' but can we have pie now?" Luke says, burping loudly after he finishes his sentence and causing Julia to scrunch her nose in disgust while I laugh at him.

"I wouldn't mind some either," I say, scooting my seat back and picking up the rest of our plates (since Calum wasn't kind enough to take all of them) and walking over to the kitchen with Ashton following behind me.

"Bring back some more wine!" Julia giggles, already buzzed from the two glasses she already downed.

I laugh and rinse off the dishes before grabbing more from the cabinet for the pie. Ashton stands by the counter, watching me as I gather everything. "You okay?" I ask, and he nods once, giving me a small smile. I don't want to doubt him, but I know he's lying. I reach into the refrigerator and pull out the whipped cream and bottle of wine like Julia requested and place them on the island along with everything else before moving forward towards Ash.

He places his hands on my waist and pulls me until I'm firmly against him and then moves his arms around my shoulders. "Sorry," he whispers. "My sketchbook is in my desk drawer and I freaked out because I thought Michael may have looked in it. It's not something I want people to look at unless I show them myself."

This I know because he doesn't even show me what's in it. It makes sense that he would get a little paranoid if someone was snooping in his stuff, especially when it's meaningful to him. "You don't have to apologize," I say, pulling back from him a little to see his face. "I get it. I wouldn't want people looking through my things without permission either." I smile and fix one of the curls that is oddly sticking out of his bandana. "Now, cheer up!" I say, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "We have pie, whipped cream, and wine. If that doesn't make the rest of the night better, then I don't know what will."

He giggles softly and lets me out of his embrace "Anything that involves food always makes things better for you," he says, grabbing a pie in each hand and balancing the apple one on his arm, while I carry the plates and wine bottle over to the dining table.

"Don't make fun of my love for food," I say.

He laughs. "I'm not. I'm just stating a fact."

Without dropping the pies like I feared, Ashton carries all three pies and sets them on the table. Julia becomes ecstatic when she sees that I brought the wine and snatches it from my hands, pouring each of us another glass while Luke and Michael begin cutting into the pies and serving us slices.

Slice after slice, everyone begs for more. I guess Ash and I did a pretty damn good job on the pies. Even the apple one turned out to be amazing despite its low filling. We eat like there is no tomorrow, stuffing our mouths and moaning from the taste satisfaction from each pie. We finish everything down to the last piece of crust as well as the last drop of wine.

When I stand up, completely full from all the food as well as slightly tipsy from all the wine Julia kept pouring in my glass, the room begins to fill with laughter and my brows furrow together.

"What?" I ask.

"Damn, Emmie," Michael starts, "that's a huge food baby you got there." He points to my bloated stomach that is protruding out and resembling a baby bump.

"Holy shit," I say, poking my stomach. "It looks like I'm four months pregnant."

"It's not mine," Ashton say jokingly, and I smack the back of his head playfully.

The distinct sound of camera shutters gains my attention and I see Julia, Calum, and Luke all with their phones out and taking pictures of my enormous stomach.

I laugh and tell them all to send me their pictures so that I can have them as well. "I don't think I've ever had one this big before," I reveal.

"So far, this is the best first Thanksgiving for us," Luke says, stacking our empty plates atop one another. "Emmie's food baby makes it even better," he teases, taking the plates over to the kitchen and leaving them in the sink.

"I actually agree," I say, laughing uncontrollably and I don't know if that's just because I thought it was funny or if it's because of all the alcohol I had.

"Maybe you should drink some water, Emilia," Ash suggests, smiling at my increase in amusement.

"Maybe you should drink less water, Ashton," I say, not making any sense at all and he walks off into the kitchen.

"So this is what drunken Emmie is like," Michael teases. I forgot that he didn't come to my birthday dinner and didn't have the chance to see what alcohol does to me.

"I'm not drunk, just a little tipsy," I say.

Michael snorts and mutters under his breath, "A little."

I ignore him and spin on my feet, almost bumping into Ashton who is holding two glasses of water in his hands.

"Careful," he says, checking to make sure none of the water spilled. "Drink this." He hands me a glass.

"Kay," I say in a child-like tone, chugging down the water like it was the first time I've ever had it.

"I'm actually feeling a little buzzed, so I'd like to sober up a bit," Ashton says, taking a sip from his glass and then leading me out of the dining room and over to the living room where Julia is hanging all over Calum on the loveseat.

It has been a while since we've all drank together and sometimes I think it's because of Ash. I don't like him drinking just as much as everyone else because of how he turned to alcohol to numb the pain of finding out that Natalie is getting married, but I'm glad that he's monitoring himself now.

Michael and Luke finish off putting the leftover food in Tupperware containers and sticking all the dishes in the sink to be "washed later" as Luke says before the two come join us in the living room. They nag us for not helping them, but we just ignore them to piss them off for fun.

Michael insists that we play the new Mario Kart game that he bought which I'm fine with. The only downside is that it's a friendship ruining game. It literally brings out the worst in people and from the way Julia snaps her head at me when I agree to play, she knows exactly what I mean. Grabbing the controllers and starting up the game, Michael and I embark on the end of our friendship.

For over two hours, we have been taking turns playing against each other and each time Michael always wins the race while I get second place and it is seriously pissing me off. "I swear if you use that blue shell, I will kill you," I threaten. I'm in first place right now and if he screws this up, our friendship is over. Michael chuckles to himself and when I hear the incoming sound of the blue shell followed by it hitting me, I yell, "God dammit, Michael!"

We break out into a fit of laughter and are shushed quickly by Calum because Julia fell asleep on his lap and Luke is knocked out on the couch. I guess Julia had too much to drink. I think we all did except for Ashton, although he's still feeling it like the rest of us.

"Maybe we should call it a night," Ashton says, rising off the floor and helping me up as well.

Michael agrees after letting out a long yawn and turning off the game. Calum slowly picks Julia up and carries her upstairs while she continues to sleep. Michael decides to throw one of the pillows on the couch at Luke to wake him up which is hilarious, but I also feel bad for the rude awakening. Michael makes up for it though by helping his drowsy friend upstairs and to his room before separating off to his. Ashton and I go up last and head inside his room.

"Do you want to wear my clothes to bed?" Ashton asks as he pulls the long black sweater over his head along with the bandana and throws it inside his closet on the floor.

I nod. Julia didn't bring me two night's worth of clothes so I don't really have a choice. He pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt for me to change into. Already comfortable with him seeing me shirtless, I pull my sweater over my head and pull on his shirt. Thankfully the shirt reaches to my knees so I am able to shimmy out of my jeans without him seeing anything and pull on his sweatpants.

I crawl into the bed first, already feeling extremely drowsy just from the softness of the mattress. Even though the heater is on, it's still somewhat cold in the house, most likely from the age of it as well as the freezing temperatures outside. Turning off the light and crawling next to me in only navy plaid sweats, Ashton pulls the blanket over us and tangles our legs together.

"Did you have fun today?" he asks.

He sounds so sleepy, it's cute. "Yeah," I say softly, snuggling up to his chest.

"You gonna tell me what you're thankful for? Or is that some stereotypical American thing that no one actually does?" He chuckles.

"I don't think anyone does that." I laugh as best as I can while trying to stay awake. "But it's you. I don't think there's anything that I could be more thankful for." My eyes slowly shut, but I force myself to stay conscious; to hear his voice once more before I drift off.

His chest rises as he inhales deeply before it slowly falls down. "I'm more than thankful; I'm blessed to have you. And I thank God every day for bringing me to you."

___________

A/N:

So to be honest, I hate this chapter. It's meh in my opinion, but I hope you guys like it. It was actually really difficult to write. I'm surprised at how long it is too!

I also want to give a shout-out to @_jocex for suggesting that Calum forget to defrost the turkey. I didn't really expand on it like I would have liked, but thank you so much for helping out!

Also, apparently I have been writing dialogue as well as basically my entire story wrong according to the rules of writing fiction that I learned in my creative writing class. Oops. So I tried to make this chapter according to those rules, but I kind of veered off and did my typical style as well.

Thank you guys so much for 45.4k reads!! I can't thank y'all enough! I love you so much!

Please keep on voting, commenting, and sharing!

--Rebecca xoxoxoxoxoxo

P.S. I am also working on creating a separate tumblr account specifically for my writing as well as 5sos stuff. I have it up, but none of my stories are posted on there yet because I want to edit them first. You can also submit edits or suggestions there because I have been getting some PMs about that. So go ahead and follow if you'd like!

It's rdysasi-official.tumbr.com :)

I'll also have the link in my wattpad profile!