"You hit him with your car? That's how you guys met?"
"Yup. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
In which two hot-headed musicians learn to tolerate each other.
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song: the same - alex g November, 1983
★
THE RUMBLING OF my stomach was the reason I was up at 8:30 in the morning. I had a craving for a simple bacon and eggs breakfast so I got up and put on my slippers. I tiptoe way to the living room, noticing the blonde guitarist still passed out on my sofa. His eyebrows were furrowed and his pink bottom lip was jutted out in a pout as he held the crochet blanket I put over him last night snug to his chin.
When I reach the open kitchen, I take off the hoodie I put on last night, leaving me in my turkey shorts and a plain grey baby tee. I pull out a plate for me and James, even though he's still asleep, and begin cooking for both of us.
I heard a wail from behind me, so I turn around to spot James stretching his arms over his head and yawning. I also couldn't help but notice the lack of his t-shirt. He rubs his chest and pulls the blanket off of him. I redirect my sight back to the food, rather than drooling over the guitarist.
"I smell bacon," he pops by my side suddenly.
"You know, my dog does the same thing."
"Har har." He doesn't even bother faking a good laugh as he goes to my fridge, pulling out my coffee creamer. He starts making his cup and then offers me if I wanted one too. I politely decline and ask him to bring me the orange juice instead.
Once I finish cooking, I place our plates in front of us and put some syrup over my bacon and eggs, trying to ignore the looks James was shooting me.
"Hey, thanks for breakfast. You didn't have to. You already let me crash here." He reminds me before taking a sip of his coffee.
"You're welcome." I couldn't get the full sentence out before James starts choking on his coffee, causing it to spill on his lap as he starts laughing uncontrollably.
"Are you fucking psychotic?" I query, genuinely worried about the man in front of me.
"Shit." He hisses from the coffee, but then he starts laughing again.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Is that you?" He points to a picture on my fridge. I have multiple magnets, drawings, and pictures on my fridge so I needed him to specify. He stands up, grabs the photo, and brings it back. I swear, I felt my heart plummet to my ass.
Willow has this very fun quirk where she likes to find the worst things and hangs them anywhere in my house. She likes to see how long it'll take until I notice. This time, she decided to hang my 3rd-grade Halloween costume up on the fridge.
