𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. | conan gray

𝟐𝟔. | kiss

i wake up to the soft light filtering through the window, and for a second, i don't realize where i am. then i feel the warmth beneath me—conan's lap. my head's been resting there all night, and a flicker of embarrassment rises in my chest. i can't help but wonder how uncomfortable it must've been for him. why didn't he wake me?

i slip away quietly, heading to the bathroom, splashing cool water on my face. as i glance at myself in the mirror, yesterday's fight with el rushes back, the words still heavy.

reluctantly, i grab my phone, which i'd put on silent, and see the missed messages and calls from her. a few drunk texts from last night where she says she's sorry, two missed calls from this morning, and another text asking if we can talk.

thinking about how comfortable i feel here, at conan's place, and how heavy the thought of talking to her feels right now, my heart sinks. it's too much to handle right now. so i slide the phone back into my pocket and splash my face with more water, hoping to wash away the anxiety swirling inside me.

when i go back to the living room, conan's awake too, rubbing his eyes. i smile at the sight—his messy hair, the sleepy look on his face.

"why didn't you wake me up?" i ask, raising a brow.

he just grins, a teasing look in his eyes. "you looked so peaceful. couldn't bring myself to do it."

i laugh and slap him lightly on the arm, and he just chuckles, getting up to make us both some coffee. as i wait, i glance around his kitchen, my eyes landing on a box of brownie fudge mix in the corner of the counter. i gasp and grab it, holding it up like it's a prized treasure.

"conan!" i call out, waving the box. "are these the same brownies we tried to make last time?"

he looks over, grinning. "yeah, the exact same ones."

i gasp, dramatically clutching the box to my chest. "we have to make them," i insist, my determination already set.

he crosses his arms, giving me a playful, skeptical look. "oh, so we can end up with a tray of charcoal again? and then you can blame me for it, just like last time?"

"we're not having this conversation again," i smirk. "come on, we're going to make it right this time!"

"okay, fine," he grins back, finally giving in. "hey, actually, do you wanna do an instagram live? i've been doing a lot of those lately—baking and chatting. it's fun!"

my smile fades a little, and my glance shifts. it could be fun, but the thought of being on camera with his fans watching makes me nervous. they know who i am, and the thought of their opinions—especially the not-so-great ones—makes me uneasy.

"uh, we don't have to," conan adds quickly, picking up on my hesitation. "it was just an idea, but we—"

"let's do it," i say, cutting him off before i can overthink it.

he looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raised. "you sure? you don't—"

"c'mon, get your phone already," i reply, nudging his arm playfully with the box.

his smile returns, warm and encouraging. "alright then."

conan grabs his phone, setting it up as we gather the ingredients. "alright, everyone," he says, looking at the camera as people start joining. "today, we're attempting brownies... again. and this time, i have a very special helper." he pulls me closer, ensuring i'm in the frame, then wraps his arms around me. "this is one of my best friends, amy."

"hi," i say, a hint of nervousness creeping into my voice. but conan's embrace helps ease my anxiety, and i smile back at him as i hug him tighter. "let's hope we don't burn your place down," i say as we pull apart, grabbing the eggs and oil.