Act Like A Family

~Chapter Three~

I have no idea how I had survived throughout the night...literally. When I had woken up this morning, Larry was like, on top of me.

I was lying on my stomach, and his fat ass was sprawled out on top of me, arms around my waist and his face pushed into the crook of my neck. I had to fight the urge to laugh when he yawned sleepily into the side of my face as I slid out from beneath him the quickest I could without waking him.

I thought I was off scot free when I went to walk to the door, but then a slight tugging on the end of my shirt caught my attention. I looked back to see Larry wide awake, his arm stretched out, and three of his fingers curled into my shirt. His other arm his head was laying on, and he looked at me through his messy hair.

"Where you going?" He asked, his other hand moving to his face and rubbed at his eyes.

"You act like I'm trying to sneak out from a one night stand. I'm going downstairs for something to eat, I missed dinner last night," I said, reaching down, unhooking his fingers from my shirt and turned around, opening the door.

"No, wait. I come too," he said, pushing himself up from my mattress with a sleepy groan coming from his lips.

"I'll meet you down there," I said, continuing on my way to the kitchen. He was being cute and all, wanting to be near me, but I was hungry.

And I couldn't give two shits about anything when I was hungry.

I walked downstairs, and into the kitchen, past the empty table. I opened the fridge and inspected its contents, wondering what time it was, considering my dad usually gets up around five in the morning.

"Thanks for waiting," I heard come from behind me, and I rolled my eyes,

"I'm not going to wait for you to primp yourself before breakfast," I said, grabbing the jug of orange juice from the top shelf and shut the fridge door. I looked over my shoulder to see him standing by the table, one hand flat on the table as he was leaning on it, and his left leg was crossed behind the other as he stared at me.

He had fucking changed his clothes! Now wearing a pair of tan loose skinny jeans, a black sweatshirt with a white undershirt that poked out the end of his sweatshirt and his neck warmer with a golden chain hanging from his neck.

"See! You're worse than a girl!" I scoffed, walking over to the counter and set the juice down before turning my back to him and going through the cabinets.

"I'm sorry I have style, and you don't," he said, and I laughed,

"Your style is the exact same as every other black guys, so don't be so proud."

He clicked his tongue behind me,

"Why you so rude?"

"I'm not rude, I'm picking on you," I chuckled, standing on my toes and reached around the top shelf of the cabinet before my fingers brushed the box of granola bars I was in search of.

I looked over my shoulder and smiled sheepishly to him,

"Larry, can you-" he walked over to me and grabbed the box effortlessly, and when I turned around to face him, reaching for the snacks, he reached up high, holding them above me.

"Larry! Why are you so mean?" I groaned, attempting to grab them by standing on my toes and arching my back. He smiled as he watched, than lowered his hand to my height, and I eyed him before reaching up to grab them, but he yanked back.

"I not mean, I'm only picking on you," he said. I glared at him, snatching the box as he lowered them to me, and turned around, elbowing him purposely in the chest. He only laughed,