𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒚 ( Unfinished)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

┏━━━ ❀ ━━━┓
𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲
┗━━━ ❀ ━━━┛
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Exactly One week later

February 16th 2018 — Elizabeth Olsen's Birthday

I forgot. Or well I didn't really know.

She is partly to blame If i'm being honest. But on their day, birthday girls do no wrong. I didn't know this until this morning when I checked my phone to see a text from Viv.

Viviette

What's the plan 4 Lizzie's bday?

11:15 pm

She was asleep. Lucky me. I paused for a moment, my mind racing with confusion. Then it hit me—my girlfriend was probably expecting to wake up to presents or a surprise, like breakfast in bed or some romantic shit.

So I ran.

I threw on some clothes and slipped out of her room, heading down the quiet, early-morning streets. The bakery was a few blocks away, and the crisp morning air helped clear my head.

The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee greeted me as I entered, and I quickly scanned the display case. My eyes landed on a single cupcake, topped with delicate frosting and sprinkles. Perfect.

With the cupcake carefully in hand + coffee, I made my way back to her room. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a warm, golden glow through the windows.

I quietly slipped back into her room and gently climbed onto the bed, straddling her hips with a thick blanket separating us.

Carefully, I lit the tiny candle sticking out from the top. The flickering light danced softly, casting a gentle glow on her peaceful face.

"Baby," I whispered, brushing a few strands of hair away from her forehead.

Her eyes flickered open, tired and bleary, and she groaned. "Happy birthday," I said softly, smiling down at her. She groaned again, murmuring, "No," before weakly blowing out the candle and pushing the cupcake from my hands.

It tumbled onto the bed, smearing icing on the blanket before rolling off and hitting the ground with a soft smack. I tried to catch it, but it was too late.

Are. 

You. 

Fucking. 

Kidding. 

Me.

She grabbed me, pulling me down into the icing on the blanket, her grip surprisingly strong. I laughed psychotically, my face inches from hers as she settled back into the pillow. She held me close, her eyes fluttering shut again.

And just like that, she was back asleep, holding me tight amidst the sweet mess.

An hour of my life wasted in a few seconds, but knowing the outcome, I realized there was nothing I would have done differently.

She doesn't sleep much longer.

Beside her, I lay with one hand under my head, while she used my bicep as a pillow. My shirt was gone, now a sheet to separate me from the icing beneath.

Above us I watched the tendrils of smoke swirl in the air as I exhaled, a joint in my other hand. Her warm fingers slid over my body, and her leg draped over my waist, anchoring me to the moment.