𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢 - 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

08 - then, it's settled

Sunday, October 2nd

The bed in Killian's guest bedroom is pleasantly comforting. A subtle linen smell laces every inch of the blankets that engulf me, followed by the sweet smell of his apartment.

I shift in the sheets, moaning softly as I stretch my arms. My outstretched hand reaches around me until I finally open my eyes to see my phone on the bedside table. A note sits next to it, pen-written in the smoothest handwriting you'll ever see.

Killian's handwriting.

I sit up, carefully picking up the note and rubbing my eyes until I'm fully conscious to read it.

"I had to leave early, but you can leave whenever you want. I wrote this so you wouldn't wake up from a notification on your phone. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Just don't make a mess or rearrange anything, please."

I smile before placing it back down on the polished wood. My phone reads ten a.m., so I'm guessing he probably left around an hour or two ago.

Once I remove myself from the bed sheets, I saunter out of the room and to the kitchen. My stomach grumbles, letting me know that before I leave, I should at least grab something to eat.

I set my phone down on the island table before turning around to open the fridge. Everything is neat and organized by the type of product as well as the size. I check the freezer, and to no surprise it's the same as far as organizing goes. Most -if not all- of the items are healthy. On the side door in the fridge sits a row of juice boxes, the same ones that Aspen buys for me.

I recall our conversations from last night. I'm sure that he said he never buys grape juice. Did he buy these? For me?

I rub my lips together before they curl into a smile, and I reach for the box closest to me. I close the fridge, not wanting to take anything else from his stash.

I grab my phone from behind me, and I stab the little straw into the hole of the juice box. I take a long sip before heading back down the hall of Killian's apartment.