RECCOMEND LISTENING TO: 'PANCAKES FOR DINNER' BY LIZZY MCALPINE
The sage green front door opens slowly, and Clay's face appears from behind it. The look on his face resembles one of a person who just saw a ghost.
His eyes are wide as he takes me in. He scans me from head to toe, not quite meeting my eyes until he sees the bag in my hand. Then he glances up, wondering what in the world I am doing on his doorstep.
"Hi," My voice sounds so little. I traveled all the way from New York to tell him that I still have feelings for him, and I can't even say hello correctly.
"Hi." He still seems so surprised. He opens the door a little more, almost like he's going to invite me in.
I don't want to go into the house. I know that at this moment my heart may have the chance of getting broken into a thousand pieces. I have too many good memories in this house to have them drowned out by this one. I start talking before I can be invited in.
"I just flew on a plane from New York City." I blurt out.
"I figured," he laughs, "Do-"
"I just flew on a plane from New York City to say something, something that could have probably been said on the phone, to someone who I let leave New York after they put their heart out on the line." I take a deep breath. "And I have no idea how they are going to take it."
Why did I just say that? That was a lot, even for me, that was so much information at once. I planned out my speech, and it came out so much smoother in my head than whatever the heck just happened
"Wait wait, slow down, y/n." He steps out into the rain. He lifts one arm like he's going to wrap it around my shoulders. "Come inside, you're soaked."
I take a step back away from his touch.
"I am about to take a huge step of courage and faith." I keep my eyes focused on a crack in the house's wall in front of me. Has that always been there? "I don't want to go inside until I know there is nothing in our way. Until I know that there are no roommates this would make it awkward for, that you're not planning on moving across the country to run away, that there's no girlfriend or boyfriend on their way to pick you up." I meet his eyes now. "Because I don't want to mess this up again. I don't want to mess us up again."
"y/n, I am the only one home right now, and there is nobody else on their way to pick me up." His voice is soft. Rain has spattered onto his own shirt now, too. "So will you please come inside out of the rain?" he asks.
My fingers fumble together as I think of a reason not to go inside. It's almost two in the morning, and I have no other plans to do anything tonight. I just give him a nod, and I follow him through the doorway.
The room is pretty dark besides the light in the kitchen, but they've mostly kept everything in its place. I am flooded with hundreds of memories of us in this old house. I can hear the ghost of a whisper to Nick and George arguing. I can imagine the smell of pancakes floating through the air. I can see all of us piled on the couch for a movie.
"Let me get you some dry clothes," Clay calls out before disappearing down the hall.
I walk into the kitchen light. I notice the spice rack in the kitchen was moved to the other side near the stove, and they haven't done the dishes in a while. I notice two polaroid's taped randomly on the wall. One is of Nick, George and I from when they went to New York. The other is of Clay being bothered by Nick while cooking something.
I wonder who taped these on the wall. It had to be either George or Nick because the placement in the kitchen reminds me too much of the three polaroids taped up on my New York apartment walls.
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saturday mornings are for pancakes // a dream x reader fanfiction
Fanfiction"What are you doing in my kitchen?" he asks groggily as he makes his way over to the barstools. I laugh at the way he rubs his eyes. "Making pancakes." He squints up at me, hangover all over his face. "Why are you doing it so early in the morning?" ...
