Flowers and Pop Rocks

07

p o p p y

"Blake, wake up," I nudged him lightly, trying not to accidentally wake someone else up by mistake. "Blake."

"What's happening?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, still only half awake. "Flower?"

"I heard something from outside," I explained.

I'd taken the liberty of brushing my teeth before I woke him up just so I could accompany him outside without making him wait in case the sound was from some sort of murderer.

"Can we sleep for five more minutes?" he requested, pulling me down back on the bed and burying his head into my neck.

"Please, if only we could," I sighed. "But there might be a murderer outside, and I don't really want to die two days after my birthday."

"If there was a murderer outside, and I doubt there is, we shouldn't be facing him," he reasoned, still not wanting to get up.

"Come on, Blake," I pleaded. "Do it for me?"

He opened an eye and peeked at me before groaning at my serious expression. "Fine, let's go."

Can't believe that worked.

I gripped his hand tightly as we walked out the bedroom cautiously. It was still about six in the morning, and I didn't want to wake anyone else up.

"Maybe it's the blocks for the day," Blake guessed.

To be fair, his idea was more plausible than mine, but still, you could never be too sure. I might be right about the noise coming from a murderer.

He peeked into the living room slowly before turning to me. "Flower, there's no one there. It was probably just the shifting from the blocks for the day."

"Well, we can look for blocks while we're here," I suggested. "You woke me up yesterday, I woke you up today."

"Fair point," he shrugged, pulling me to the living room so we could start looking.

I had found two blocks when Blake spoke up again. "About that crush on Gordon Ramsay..."

Ha! He did buy it!

"What about it?" I asked peeking under the small dining table to see if there were any blocks.

"I get it if you don't want to tell me who your crush is, but if you're gonna lie about it, make it at least a little believable," he suggested.

"Hey, my crush on Gordon Ramsay is believable," I argued.

"Sure, if you're forty, maybe."

I whipped my head around and narrowed my eyes at him. "You watch yourself, Nixon."

"You wouldn't hurt me, Flower," he smirked. "Who would do that to their crush?"

"How dare you use that against me," I gasped dramatically.

"So it's true then? You didn't tell Levi that you like to bake. You said you like Blake," he caught me red handed.

Technically, I was brown handed because I had two brown wooden blocks in my hands, but red handed sounded better.

"Did I?" my voice went high pitched. I didn't know who I was going to convince when I sounded like that.

He shrugged, the smirk still not having left his face. He moved closer and closer to me until he whispered in my ear, "You tell me, Flower."

I involuntarily shivered, a reaction I wasn't expecting from myself. How did he have such an effect on me?

"We'll see," I squeaked, still not willing to confess my crush. Although, I was sure it was already pretty obvious.