my brothers best friend.
that's what you've always been.
you showed up in my living room one day and that was it.
but apparently i was 'off limits'
but you didn't listen, and we hid us, we hid the love we shared, the touches we shared, everything...
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🄰🄻🄻🄸🅂🄾🄽
falling | chapter forty-nine
˗ˏˋ ✧ ˎˊ˗
My eyes take note of the bed made, a freshly washed and folded stack of clothes set on the fixture as I finish brushing my teeth. Garlic pesto pizza for lunch wasn't the best choice for my breath.
I don't exactly remember making my bed when I stumbled out of it this morning, It's almost 5 o'clock , and I have no idea how the white covers came together. I do however remember the groan I let between my lips this morning when I came face to face with the monthly obstacle every girl despises. Who let Eve give this shit to us. If anybody knows her, tell her I just wanna "talk."
As I wipe the light blue towel against my mouth, shuffling back over to my bed, my eyes gawk at the small yellow note placed on my nightstand.
HIII!!
ur mom made me bring these clothes up to ur room, so i made your bed cuz i was bored :) UR WELCOME :))))
- dan <3
The corner of my lips turning into a small smile as I finish reading the small gesture, fiddling with the corner of the paper as I re read the simple sentence over and over in my head.
I slowly slide open the drawer on my nightstand, placing the small note inside the drawer that consists of snacks, bracelets, as well as pictures and such of things that bring warm memories back to me.
The sun is seen slowly beginning It's daily routine of saying farewell to the obstacles that have occurred throughout the day through the large glass fixture across from my bed. A clash of soft oranges and reds gleam the luminous light onto the area of my room, almost as if a filter is set over the whole set.
Oh, how I will always be in love with a good sunset. It just looks so at peace. The array of colors fighting for dominance, one of the many choosing to glisten more than the others, taking up most of the sky.
As I then rush down the double flights of stairs, the image of the bed made found flustering around my head. And almost like It's clockwork, he's downstairs. Found at the kitchen sink, scrubbing a white plate happily with a green smiley face sponge.
Fuck.
And my mom's there, sitting at the table with a magazine open in her hands, her glasses slipping off the top of her nose.
I swear she's obsessed with him, but hell- I think that I might be too. She thinks he's good for me, and that's not something I'm very used to.
