Andy "Dan" Fuyuhiko. A baker, crime TV addict, out and proud gay with no student debt, YET, and tourette's. With dreams of becoming a Forensic Scientist, she wants to make a positive impact in the world by solving cold cases and baking choc-chip coo...
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( hold on • flor )
After four, almost five hours worth of time on the comfy yellow couch, the entire bowl of hot cheetos was demolished three times over, and four empty two liter bottles of Dr. Pepper lay on the wooden coffee table.
Just having completed the entire first season, my black hoodie now lay on the armrest of the couch, leaving me in my grey tee, and my brain feels absolutely trashed, or as Macy calls it, "mind-fucked."
"What a ride right? It's been forever since I've seen the first season."
"That's one way to describe it." I sign back, taking a moment to recollect all of my thoughts.
Staring at the now black screen, I shake my head a little bit, before turning to Macy. I have this urge, need, to keep watching. I think I may be addicted to the strange cartoon.
"It's only 4:00, so we should have time to go through season 2 and 3 too." Macy signs, seeming to have read my mind.
I nod, causing her to smile at me, placing her head on my shoulder as she begins to presses play again. Suddenly remembering the mess we made, I quickly pat on Macy's thigh making her jolt off of me.
"Sorry, I'm going to clean this up before we start again." I explain, moving to toss the dp bottles into the hot cheeto bowl.
She nudges my shoulder, "let me help, it's ourmess, not your mess."
With that, she grabs the hot cheeto bowl while I grip onto the four bottles, and we head into her kitchen.
I drop all of the bottles into the recycling bin, moving to lean against the counter as Macy begins to wash the red dust filled bowl.
Watching her doing the most domestic of things, I can't help but smile at the girl. The window behind her illuminating the back of her copper hair, making it look a fiery red, that drapes from her head to her lower back.
Without even thinking about it, I walk behind her and hug her, placing my head on her right shoulder as I'm now so used to her doing to me.
In four short weeks she's managed to make it feel like I've known her my whole entire life. I've never been someone to initiate or even really accept too much physical contact, but she makes me welcome it.
Taking in her lavender scented hair, I smile.
Turning around in my arms, our foreheads meet and I immediately feel hot, and I start to tic from the nervousness. Macy grins at me, knowing what she's doing, and flicks me with her sudsy hand.
