My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Twenty Four

"I never gave you your birthday present," I mumble into the crook of Louis' neck.

It's twelve in the afternoon, and we are still in bed, legs tangled together under the sheets, my head resting on his shoulder, his hand playing with my curls.

The pads of his fingers lightly caress the bare skin on my arms. "I thought last night was enough of a gift in itself," he states with a sly grin.

I pout, covers rustling when I move off him to go grab his present from my drawer. "You have to see your present, Sunflower. Besides, that was your Christmas present."

He quirks a brow at the nickname, grin teasing his lips. "Oh?"

I nod, humming. The silver glitter on the wrapping paper sprinkles down onto my legs, clinging to the fair hair there.

I hand it over to him.

He pokes the gold bow with his finger, smiling, eyes soft. He rips rapidly at the paper, bits falling onto the floor where Squeak and Dusty will bound to play with when I forget to pick it up.

He looks at the dark grey book in his hands, flipping the thick cream pages over.

"What is it?" he asks, tilting his head at the blank pages.

I sit down beside him, picking at a fray on the sewn edges of the pillow. "Look at the front," I mumble.

He flips the book shut, finger tracing the small lettering engraved in white on the front, muttering the words out loud. "Louis, write your dreams and they shall come true- from your own personal Genie, Haz x.' Hazza." He looks up at me, cupping my cheeks and gently thumbing my lips.

"I didn't know what to get you, and I remember having a journal when I was younger. It helped, a lot, you know? It was something where I could put everything onto and not worry about them. You can do whatever you like in this one. Write your dreams, your to do lists, maybe some screen plays. Anything," I ramble, feeling a little shy about the whole ordeal.

He shakes his head, leaning close and brings his lips to mine in a slow, steady kiss, making the butterflies flap widely.

He breaks away, giving me a kiss on the neck. "It's perfect. Thank you."

I nod once, letting my head flop onto his chest. He runs nails lightly up my back, causing a shiver to run through me.

"What would you like to do today?" I ask, biting my lip to suppress any sort of sound other thank talking, to come out my lips.

He raises his shoulders into a shrug. "What about... second date? Your choice."

I think for a moment, just staring down at his lap, tanned skin smooth on his torso where the smallest of rolls lay from how he's sitting. I have the urge to pinch one.

"We could do a... picnic?"

He groans at that. "Harold, it is less than seven degrees outside, I am not sitting on damp grass, shivering my arse off, whilst you feed me strawberries. That can be for the summer."

I huff out a sigh, lifting my head up to stare into his pretty blues. "Fine. What about... what about a bookstore date?" My eyes light up at the thought.

The things I read on bloody Pinterest.

"Where we go and choose a book we want the other person to read. It can be anything. Can be something you know will be good, something you think the other will like, or it can be completely random. We then read it, write about our thoughts on it, then check back with each other later!" I explain.