˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥𝕸𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖗 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘🖤+𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

🎂 🎉 Happy Birthday? 🎉🎂

"DING DONG"

...

"Happy Birthday to yo—"

"No."

"Oh?"

I forced myself to drag my body to his door and that's the first thing he says to me?!

To be fair, it was 9:00 in the morning....

When he opened the door I barely recognized him. He looked like he was ruffled around in a laundry machine. His hair was statically frizzes up, his eyes were swollen, his clothes were wrinkled, sagging down to the corner of his knees and his posture was arched as if the world was weighing on his shoulders.

I looked him down and raised a brow before crossing my arms.

"Uh...okay, maybe I'll sing in a different language?"

"Y/n—"

"Feliz cumpleaños a ti—"

"Y/n wait...wait..." He rose his index finger and placed it, desperately on my lips.

I froze.

"What? Mike...you don't want me to sing on your very special day?"

He rubs his eyes and combed back a chunk of his jet-black curls.

"Y/n...listen. I just feel like my birthday isn't worth celebrating anymore...not to be depressing or anything." He shrugged his shoulders, "but I truly appreciate your surprise."

Now I felt like the world was on my shoulders, times ten!

His eyes, although they were squinted from the suns strong radiation, they are full of empathy and culpability.

He clears his throat before speaking up again, "why don't you come in? Spend some time in here for a while. I have nothing better to do..."

His front door expands, he moves to the side. I let out a soft sigh and slowly shift my legs into his complex.
~

His home was well kept as usual, and the sweet aroma of citric sugars fill my nostrils. Mike had disappeared, taking the time to refurnish himself before presenting himself to me again...eventually he'd trout down his stair steps with a much more vigorous and bubbly feeling.

"Oh...look at you! Sixteen and already feeling yourself." I giggled before approaching him.

He shook his head but couldn't contain a grave expression. Small curls disturb the corner of his lips.

"Look at the birthday boy!" I teased.

"Let's not..."

Before he shift his attention to his kitchen, I grab his wrist and yank him towards the door.

"Let's go out and do at-least one thing to celebrate."

He rolled his eyes, "I mean...we don't have to—"

"Please? I came all this way..." I held to him tighter.

"Okay fine."

By the way he spoke, he was pretending to brush off his excitement, but his heart was pounding out his chest.
~
We take his bike and rode around the city. As we did, I struggled to come up with one way to enjoy this wonders, warm, sunny Thursday...it finally hits me:

"Mike, how do you feel about getting a little wet?"
~
The beach is infested of teenagers, parents and unhinged children. The waves are sparkling as they'd hit each other. The palm trees decorate like lights on a Christmas tree. The sand is crumby and baked but still very soft like flour.