Falling for Death

Dream

Harper

I sat on my bed, legs crossed while I was reading the book I got for Ace, 'The Atlas six'. I was adding my annotations to it so I could give it to him and he could see what I was thinking whilst reading it.

It's really fun to do. All of the books I own have so many notes in them that most of the money I spent is from buying sticky notes, translucide post its and well books!

Reading has been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember. I simply fell in love with it. That and the characters written on the pages.

It's seven thirty and I am more than half way through the book, don't ask how I read so fast. My phone rang, disrupting my reading time. I groaned and checked my it.

It was Ace, as expected. I picked up the call.

"Hey." I smiled absentmindedly at the sound of his voice.

"Hi."

"Missed me?" I rolled my eyes.

"You wish Ace." he chuckled and I think he's working or something because I heard the sound of papers and stuff being moved around and a computer being turned on.

"Are you busy right now?" I asked.

"Not really."

"We can talk later if it's better for you."

"Nah. I'm good here." I laughed and laid back on my bed.

"I have absolutely no idea how to start a conversation." he mumbled sounding embarrassed and nervous but I couldn't really tell because his voice is always so... blank.

I think it's cute when men are nervous. And it's also kind of funny.

"That's fine. I'll start."

"Okay." I smiled and asked him what types of food he likes to make as that random question popped into my mind.

"Mostly Italian dishes."

"Deserts? Or a little bit of everything?"

"A bit of everything yeah." that's interesting.

"So you don't secretly have a private chef?" I questioned, he chuckled softly.

"Nope. No private chef."

"When did you start cooking then?"

"My mother taught me how when I was ten." I was surprised.

"Wow. So you're a mama's boy." I teased.

"Yeah. She's the best." I always like men who respect they're mothers.

"She raised you well."

"That's why I'm so amazing."

"Hey! Don't steal my lines!"

"Oops?" I could feel his stupid smirk through the phone.

"What about you? You're close with your mother?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's always just been me and her well and Eliot." I replied, keeping my dad out of it.

"Your father?" he said, curiosity laced in his voice and I was contemplating whether or not I should tell him.

I could trust him, right? He's never given me a reason not to.

"Um he uh left when I was like twelve. I've never seen him since."

"Dads can be assholes." I smiled at his bluntness and his attempt to make me laugh.

"Yeah, I second that."