The Story of Us

Her

     The sound of a Snapchat notification rings throughout the dark, quiet room, only illuminated by led lights. Another notification sounds across the room to signify a text had been sent, so the phone is picked up and opened. The brightness of the screen illuminates the girls face, hurting her eyes until she quickly adjusted. She clicks on the message that she now realize was from her boyfriend, Leo.

Baby?? I'm here
What ? What do you mean your here ?
I tried to call you but you ignored me. It's almost 2 pm and you know I have to leave your house before it gets too dark.

     '2 pm ? There was no way it was already 2 in the after noon!' She thought to herself. 'How could I have possibly slept for so long when I had plans ?'

Shit. I'm sorry, I overslept pretty bad. I just need to throw some clothes on but you can just invite yourself in.
It's alright, Abigail, I know you've been working hard. You don't need to get dressed, I'll come in and you can get some more rest.

     The old clothes she wore were beat up, her mom would always tell her "it isn't Sunday, why is your shirt so 'holy'" and laugh, knowing she had so many shirts without holes and simply just got unlucky when picking an outfit. It only took Leo a few minutes to be in the door, take off his shoes, and make his way to her bedroom. He opened the door quietly and quickly, attempting (and failing) to open the door without too much of the light coming in. "Hey baby", he whispered, almost as if he talked any louder he would ruin her rest.

     His caring eyes and gentle frame could be seen through the dim light in the room, and it allowed her to relax. She could feel the stress melting from her body as he began to climb into bed. "Jeans, really?" She asks, feeling the rough texture press against her legs. He giggled, he seemed to be in a fairly good looking outfit. The contrast from her "holy" shirt and his business casual outfit showed the difference between the two. He was put together and she was falling apart. The simple stress of life took a toll on both the occupants of the bed, but Abigail showed her stress much worse than him. Her eyes always carried bags underneath them, her back aches throughout the day, and her head could spin for hours on end without any reason whatsoever.

      She pressed her head against his chest and took a deep breath. Though he didn't show it, she could feel his stress leaving his head and body. The sound of his heartbeat showed her that he was real, he was alive, and he was there with her. She could feel him begin to pet her hair through the tangled mess. He didn't seem to mind how unorganized she was. The messy room, old makeup on her face, and tangles in her hair never seemed to get to him. He managed to see through her messy life and he was always there for her anytime she needed him. The last thing she heard was the sound of his, now slowed, heartbeat before she fell back asleep.

      After all, a few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt anyone.