Chapter 21 - Birthday Surprises

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Chapter Song: Keep Driving by Harry Styles

                                          Evelyn
Shit.

I'm twenty one.

What the hell?

I'm twenty one.

Okay, I need to avoid an existential crisis before I mourn the loss of my childhood. Is that dramatic? Maybe to some people. But these are my feelings and I refuse to let them be discredited.

So, ha.

Okay, now I really need to avoid that existential crisis. People always say 'go to your happy place.' What's my happy place?

Christmas, bread, Michael-

Michael. His laugh, his smile, his eyes. God, his eyes. Even his comfy clothes that smell like him. Everything. It's all him. And now, in his apartment, it's us.

It's strange how that works sometimes. A relationship, I mean. How can someone slip into another person's life so easily? I don't even know when it happened. We just seemed to fall into step besides one another. I don't know if it's us living together for the past week or how well we get along, but every time I'm around him I get this feeling I can't quite describe.

I think it's love.

But I've never been in love before, so I don't know what it feels like since I have nothing to compare it to. But what I feel when I'm with Michael, it's exactly like what I imagine love feels like.

It's a heart swelling, all consuming feeling that makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. It's hoping not to get caught after staring for a few moments too long. It's holding his hand for a moment longer than necessary because I don't want to let go. It's being intrigued by the smallest and most insignificant of actions. It's the indescribable thrill and fear of walking across a tightrope, but the security of knowing that no matter what, the tightrope won't waver. And neither will I.

Maybe it is love.

Or...waffles?

Why does it smell like waffles?

I creaked open my (temporary) bedroom door and popped my head outside. There were gold streamers hanging in various places around the apartment and gold confetti on the floor, making the whole room shimmer. I smiled at the vase of fresh irises in a gold vase on the kitchen table.

I think I see a theme here.

Michael was standing in the kitchen, staring at a waffle maker with so much concentration that I wouldn't be surprised if his stare made it explode. He looked cute, actually. Well, he always looks cute, but there was something different about him today. He was wearing black jeans and an emerald green button up long sleeve, probably thrown over a white t shirt. His curls were still unruly, but they seemed to be in place (for once).

Slowly, I walked up to him. I didn't want to break his concentration on...whatever he was concentrating on, but I also wanted to see how long was left on the waffles because I'm starving.

I tapped Michael on the shoulder and he jumped backwards, hitting his wrist on the counter.
I chuckled slightly and wrapped my arms around his waist once his shock filled eyes met my amused ones.

"You're jumpy this morning."

"And you," Michael said, covering my eyes with his hand, "are not supposed to be awake yet. You always sleep in until around 9. It's only 8:30."

"True," I said, moving blindly as Michael pushed me out of the kitchen. "But I couldn't sleep. I smelled waffles."

I heard a door close behind me and micheal took his hands off of my eyes. "How much did you see?"

EvelynWhere stories live. Discover now