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Part I

Part I:

It was a gloomy, winter day. I was curled up in my room, sipping coffee and reading a book that I've read numerous times. Next to me, he slept peacefully.

He slept angelically, almost.

I looked at the time, realizing that he had to go to work in about two hours.

He spent the night, seeing as though he needed a place to crash. He rang my doorbell at about midnight, and I let him in since he looked a bit troubled and cold. I made him hot chocolate and got my fireplace going. Tonight was one of those "blue moon" nights, where he'd confide into me about whatever was on his mind. Tonight was one of those rare nights where I was his home. He told me how a couple of his friends were trying to force him out of the house. He refused repeatedly, seeing as though he doesn't really like being around a lot of people and has a bit of social anxiety. He just felt the need to escape that situation and come to me. I appreciate nights like that since they don't happen that often. They happen once a month, at the most.

As I was reading the last few pages of my book, I felt his presence shift beside me.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"7:00," I answered.

He stretched before sitting up and leaning over toward me. His arm draped over my shoulders before he kissed my cheek.
"Good morning," he smiled slightly.
"Good morning," I smiled.
"You're reading that book again?" he asked.
"Yes. I am," I replied a-matter-of-factly.
He chuckled while shaking his head.
"You're so brainy," he nudged my head with his index and middle fingers.
"Whatever," I smacked his hand away from me.
"You know your brains are what separate you from other girls though, Hazy," he spoke, calling me by the nickname that he gave me a few years back.

"You say that all the time, C-Note," I hissed.
"Quit callin' me that, Haze. You know you're not supposed to call me that," he sternly replied.
"Oh, I just assumed--."
"Don't assume, Hazel. I'm serious. Only the irrelevant call me that," he interrupted me.
"But, everyone calls you that," I replied.
"You're the only one who matters, Hazel," he told me, his expression cold when he said it.
"You're serious?" I inquired.
"Why the hell wouldn't I be?" he asked, seeming offended by the question.
"I can never tell when you're being sincere, Christopher," I sighed, my eyes averting back to the pages of my book.
"You've known me long enough to know," he said, his eyebrows furrowing.
I sighed.
"You just... Nevermind, Christopher," I shook my head.

"Hazel... Come here," he commanded as I got out of bed and began leaving the room.
"Hazel," he called my name again as I walked into the kitchen.
I began heating a frying pan.

A few moments later, I felt his arms wrap around my waist.
"Now, I know you heard me," he said.

I remained silent while slipping from his wrap. I began gathering things to make breakfast.

"Hazel... You know I got love for you," he leaned against the counter, his arms folding.
I scoffed.
"I never would've thought," I sarcastically replied while cracking two eggs in a bowl and seasoning it with pepper.
"Don't be like that, Hazy," he sighed.

I remained silent while stirring the eggs before pouring them into the frying pan. I then got out the bacon.

"Hey, I got some new money. I got time to spoil you today, if you want," he spoke while trying to lighten the mood.
"I don't need you spoiling me, Christopher," I told him.
"I want to, Hazel," he replied.
"You don't need to," I repeated.
"You never let someone--."
"I don't need it, Chris. Alright? It's too early for this shit," I told him, speaking seriously.

"You sure didn't need this house, but look who got it for you, and I still don't have a fucking key," he muttered.
"Do not play with me today, Christopher. I said I didn't want it or need it. All you have to do is accept it," I spoke sternly.
He rolled his eyes.
"Just be ready around noon, okay?" he said.
It was my turn to roll my eyes...