A Week of Fame

Profess

The hours ticked by, and it felt like an eternity for the sun to start rising on another day. You heard H/N rustling around in the hallway, which gave you an excuse to get out of bed, finally.

After putting on your purple tank top, and black shorts, you rush out of the room. You barely caught him before he started heading down to the basement. Slowing your motions, so you didn't look like you were rushing, you greet him.

"Good morning," you smile.

He returns it, "Morning, how did you sleep?"

"Like a baby, you?" he wasn't falling for it.

He squints at you, "You're lying. Your eyes are puffy, and bloodshot, meaning you didn't sleep at all, did you?"

"Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel confident in the morning," you place your hands on your hips. He kept his gaze steady, "No, not even a little bit. I tried though, honest. I just wasn't having it, apparently."

"Here," he messes with the old iPod in his hand, then gives it to you with his earphones. "Go lay on the couch, put these in and press play. Close your eyes, and just listen. When I'm done with my workout, I'll make breakfast, and we can walk into this meeting together. Sound good?"

You roll the iPod around in your fingers, "I'm perfectly capable of making breakfast."

"I never said you weren't, but you need rest. Trust me, this is what I do when I'm up all night. It'll help," he pecks your cheek and shoos you off.

Why argue? You do as you're told and lay down on the couch. With the earphones in place, you hit the play button and soothing trumpets begin to sound. It reminds you of the music your Grandpa played when he was hard at work in his basement. As the melody crescendos, you're taken back to the morning you caught him working on one of his model airplanes. He always had a love for them and built them himself.

He had heard you tip toe down the steps, and you heard him chuckle, "Y/N, you seem to have a knack for knowing when I need a second hand."

He called you over and asked you to hold a flashlight while he attached one of the wings. The trumpets were blaring in the background, and he took your hand.

"Every little girl needs to learn what a real dance is," he said.

He had you step up onto his feet, and he swirled you around the basement floor. He smelled of mint and tobacco. A scent that would never leave your memory. Your Grandma came down after a while, and he winked at you.

"This was what made your Grandma marry me, watch."

The way they held each other was captivating. They never stopped looking at one another. Your Grandma's smile made his eyes sparkle, and you prayed the music would never end. They were the reason why you grew up wanting a family. You wanted someone to look at you the way Grandpa looked at Grandma after 62 years. Like it was the first time he had ever laid eyes on her.

A pounding woke you from your sleep, and you rose with a jolt. You pull the earphones from your ears in enough time to hear H/N yell "Got him". He was throwing away a paper towel when you entered the room.

"There you are, I thought I'd let you sleep a little bit before making breakfast," he spoke happily.

"What time is it?" You ask groggy.