ℭ𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩//Corbyn Besson//Sequel//✔︎

Chapter 6

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to Corbean. Happy birthday to you!" ~Everyone

For Halloween, Corbs and I did matching costumes, because who wouldn't? Especially when it's Corbyn. 😍

Oh, and Why Don't We did a Love Back concert, giving out tickets to superfans while making the music video for it. You'd think riding a scooter was easy, but Daniel had fallen off a few too many times. At least it gave Max an excuse to baby him.

Now I stare at Corbyn's cute, slightly pouting, sleeping face. It's November 25th, and we decided to do a Why Don't We and close friends birthday... and a photoshoot for the fans.

It was still early... maybe 5-ish in the morning? I didn't really mind. I pushed my hand softly through Corbyn's hair, and he groaned in his sleep. I let out a breathy chuckle. I stroke his hair a few more times, and he slowly blinks his glittering eyes open.

"Morning," he mumbles quietly, hugging my waist tighter.

"Happy birthday, Corbean," I reply softly, stroking his cheek.

"Is it that day already?" he groans.

"23, Corbs."

"I'm old."

"You are not."

"I am so."

"Stop it, baby bean. You are not old, and you're absolutely the most perfect guy on earth."

He blinks up sleepily at me through his lashes. "Thanks, Iz."

"You're so cute," I murmur.

"So are you," he mumbles, his voice going soft. He tries to stay awake, letting me go and sitting against his pillow. I snuggle into him, and sling my arm around his waist. He hugs me protectively, and kisses my hair.

I hear him yawn. "What time is it?" he asks.

"Early," I reply, burying my face in his chest.

"Time?" he asks again.

"5-ish."

He groans. "Why'd you wake me up?"

"I didn't. You woke up on your own."

"You were stroking my hair... and woke me up."

"Hey, you liked it!"

"That I did."

I grin. "Alright. Let me sleep now."

"Yes," Corbyn replies, rubbing my back. He pauses, obviously waiting for me to say– "I love you," I say.

"Love you more, Iz."

~

We wake up a few hours later, and while Corbyn decides to make breakfast, I sit at the kitchen counter. We talk nonsense, and Corbyn's phone keeps on buzzing from birthday wishes.

"Be quiet!" I tell it. And it did. For one second before it started up again.

Corbyn laughs. "I don't think that's how it works," he smiles, ruffling my hair.

"It did!" I nod at him. "Did you see? It got quiet for one second, and then started up again."

He rolls his eyes.

"Mornin' Corbs! Izzy," Jonah greets. "Happy birthday, man."

"Thanks, bro."

"What's all this 'bro' and 'man' thing about? You're boys are not men." Corbyn gives me the puppy eyes. "Yet," I add.