he's dancing around in his underwear to the newest taylor swift single. he's happy.
his chocolate brown hair is disheveled, as he just got out of bed. he feels good.
maybe he's too relaxed. but he doesn't care, all he cares about is the blue eyed beauty he'll be seeing tomorrow. she makes his heart swell when she smiles.
she is his everything.
maybe that's an exaggeration. maybe it isn't. maybe he doesn't care. maybe that's the truth.
his hazel eyes scan his room, realizing it's a mess from the night before. he had a movie night with himself, binging on all of the movies his collection holds. it's his way of saying he is socially deprived, but not really. he flips onto the bed, sighing dreamily. he imagines what is going to happen when they get together, will they do something cheesy? just then, the doorbell rang.
-
he holds her while she cried, her mascara staining his paper people shirt, but he doesn't mind, he doesn't want to disturb her and hurt her even more.
"what's wrong?" he asks carefully, as if she were to break apart if he said it in a harsher tone.
"oh, nothing," she replied, voice stuffy from the crying that just took place.
"I can't believe that, you know." he says, matter-of-factly.
"I know that, but I have my secrets and you have yours. can you just hold me?" she says, throwing herself back into his arms, snuggling up.
"yeah, erm, of course." he hesitates to say, wrapping his arms around her.
he never did find out what was wrong.
