"Hands were meant, meant to be held, and lips were meant, meant for sweet kisses.
Hearts were meant, meant to feel love, and you give me more than enough.
You make love so fun, maybe you're the one.
Even though, we've just begun, I'm falling..."
-I'm Falling, Mindless Behavior
[Alyssa]
I wake up the next morning in Chresanto's arms, and I'm genuinely surprised; he wasn't here when I went to bed last night, which was sometime around ten fifty. I look over at the digital clock behind Chresanto's sleeping form to see that it is nine thirty-seven. I slowly, and carefully, remove myself from Chresanto's embrace and slip out of the bed.
I don't have to change clothes or anything because I am still wearing the pink and white chevron racer back tank top and jogging pants I wore the previous day; of course after all this time with Ace, I'd grown accustomed to taking showers daily and not being in the same clothes for more than fifteen hours, but today was just one of those days to where no fucks are given.
I quietly walk across the room, hoping not to wake Chresanto. I hear the bed creak as he moves, and my heart starts racing. I peek over my shoulder to make sure that he's still sleeping, and my pulse returns to normal once I see that he is still facing away from me as his shoulders move up and down. I walk to the door and open it, but I stop when I hear his voice.
"So, you're just going to leave me without so much as a hug or 'happy birthday'?" he quizzes, his voice filled with sleep. My heart falls into the pit of my stomach as my knees go weak.
"I, uh, was going to tell you when you woke up," I admit, turning to face him as he sits up. As he alter positions, the cover falls off of his body, revealing his bare, tattooed chest; on his left forearm, I notice what appears to be another tattoo. "You got a new tattoo?"
He looks down at his arm then looks back up at me. "I guess I did. I must have forgotten about it." How do you forget that you have a new tattoo? The look of confusion that masks my face must give my question away, and Chresanto lets out a chuckle. "I know what you're thinking, and to answer your question, I forgot because I got it late last night. Plus, it's numb right now."
"Can I see it?" He holds his arm out, and I walk over to him. I sit on the edge of the bed and begin to analyze his tattoo. "That's nice. How many tattoos do you have?"
He begins to ponder an answer, rubbing his chin hairs as he does so before answering, "Four. You?"
"Oh, I don't have any tattoos," I protest. "I mean, I would like a tattoo, but..." I let my sentence trail off, and Chresanto nods in understanding. "Happy birthday, by the way. How old are you?"
"Twenty-five years young," he smiles, then his smile fades and is replaced with a scowl. Before I get the chance to question him about it, the dazzling smile that I'm used to seeing covers his face again.
"Is there anything you would like to do for your birthday?" I question, playing with the hem on the bottom of my shirt.
Chresanto opens his mouth to answer me, but a knock on the slightly ajar door interrupts him. "It's open."
The door opens a little more, and Dahlia sticks her head in. "Good morning, you two." She looks down at the floor, and I follow her gaze to see Chresanto's clothes scattered about. "Am I interrupting something? I could come-"
