Meant to be?

Laughter

TW:
-description of  food/smell of food
Please let me know if you find any others!

:]

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Alex POV:

As it turns out, sleep was no where near plausible. Even the thought of it makes my stomach churn in knots, although I suppose I'm only paranoid. Paranoid that if I slip into the calming cool of drowsiness, I'll miss another year.

I make my way down the hallway from my room, feet filling with the sharp yet comforting chill of the flooring, to the door one down across the hall and offer a knock to its inhabitant. After a few moments of shuffling the door is ajar with my best friend holding it farther open, smiling warmly as an invitation.

George closes the door behind us and I make my way to sit on the side of his light blue comforter.

"Couldn't sleep after all, hmm?" The brunette inquires with a small sympathetic smile.

"Nah, don't know how I expected to. What about you, man? I thought you'd be out cold as soon as you opened you door. Honestly didn't think you'd make it to the bed." I make sure to balance the chilly sadness of a traumatic remembrance with a lighthearted joke, leaving it open for George to change topics or keep the joke going.

"Oh, yeah, I did. You woke me up, winey bitch. I could hear you crying about tortillas or whatever all the way from my room. I should really invest in some earplugs, maybe then I'd actually get a decent amount of sleep even with the three of you in the same house." George teases flippantly.

"They don't sell earbuds your size, let alone ones absorbent enough to accommodate for your insane amounts of ear wax." I muster out through giggles, eyes scrunched with cheer and pure, raw joy.

We continue this friendly banter late into the night, never bored. We laugh, play Minecraft, laugh some more,  play Jack box online, and laugh until sun peaks through the diamond blue/light grey curtains (depending on if you ask George, or any of the house's other occupants).

Soon enough, the smell of searing bacon drifts into the room, catching the attention of me, George, and the bags under our eyes, which are probably big enough to be a separate being at this point.

Only when I try to make my way downstairs without face planting, or breaking every bone in my body does the exhaustion hit. Apparently the same goes for George who is multiple steps behind me, trying to get his dearth perception back to normal, and step down to the next stair.

Admittedly, we probably looked like absolute fucking  idiots, although I'd prefer this over sleep any day.

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Hey guys, thanks for checking in, I'm ✨still a piece of garbage✨