Pessimist

5 - Friend

My eyes were heavy with sleep while I stirred awake, taking in my surroundings. I was back in the guest room, sitting up completely and I pressed a hand to my forehead. Surprisingly, my head wasn't pounding like it usually did after staying up for so long, and I was ultimately grateful I had gone back and eaten something last night, knowing my body would hate me if I hadn't.

Did I dream all that?

Looking to my right, I saw the grey blanket Dean had covered us with hanging on the back of a chair, making a slight blush fill my cheeks.

He read me to sleep.

Shaking my head, I pulled the covers of the duvet back and proceeded to clean the room making it appear as though I was never there. I changed into the clothes I wore to his house, folding the ones he gave me neatly and placing them at the foot of the bed. After that, I led myself out the door and to the living room.

The smell of toast filled my nose and my stomach rumbled with hunger, spotting Dean at the stove with his head tilted down.

My eyes traced over his clothes, grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Flicking my gaze to the clock, I noted the time.

It was a Saturday today so we both had no classes, and I was grateful for the break. School was kicking my ass and I was violently neglecting my homework.

My light pattering caught the attention of Dean, his head swinging back as he sent a nod of acknowledgment in my direction. I smiled back, pulling myself up to sit on the barstool.

"Thank you for letting me spend the night," I vocalized my appreciation, using the back of my hand to rub at my eye.

"It was no problem," He shrugged. "I've made toast and eggs. You like coffee, don't you?"

I nodded. "Wow, continue with all this hospitality, Dean, and I may have to fuck you as a thanks."

Dean wasn't much of a smiler, I noted that from the day we started talking so I didn't expect to see one now. Though, the small twitch of his lips was enough victory for me.

Sliding the eggs onto two plates, he turned off the stove and pushed a plate full of food towards me along with a mug. I noticed he had given me two pieces of toast while he had one, thinking back to last night wondering if my stomach had made any indication that I was extra hungry.

"Do you want milk?" He asked, holding up a carton with a milk bag in it. I shook my head, declining.

"I hate the taste of it. To be honest, the only memory I have of drinking milk is when my mom would give it to me before bed so I could fall asleep. Though, she'd put honey in it so I would be better accustomed to the taste."

"Ah," He nodded, a small frown. "I ran out of honey last week so I guess coffee will have to do."

Pouring me a cup, he motioned towards the sugar and cream but I shook my head.

"Not even creamer?" He paused, looking at me.

"No," I smiled weakly. After an incident, I took my coffee black.

We ate in silence, and I started to collect both our dishes when Dean stood up.

"I can do that," He said politely, moving towards me.

I flinched back slightly when his hands extended towards me, recovering quickly as I dropped the plates into his awaiting hands. I was still getting used to him and his quick reactions, my brain needing to speed up the process of realization and the difference between when I needed to get ready for an attack, or when I needed to chill the fuck out.