Mess You Made

9.

Miguel.

I hate mornings. Hate waking up. It's why I always used to be late to school because there's an inseperable layer of fatigue tied to me once my eyes open, for a good hour or so. It's the worst waking up here, when four people feel like fifty with how freaking chaotic they are.

I yawn again, head dropped down onto the island, thankful that it isn't a weekday. I haven't dressed yet, don't want to, debating all over again just falling back into the heaven that is a memory foam mattress-

"You're gonna get in trouble. Wake up." Benji mutters, sat right next to me, hovering right above my head - think he's playing with my hair.

"Gonna snitch?" I murmur, try to find a comfortable position with my face tucked into the crook of my elbow.

"Never." He says mindlessly, plays with a strand, "What's that thing on your neck?"

Despite how my body screams not to, I drag my face upwards. A few of my strands of hair fall over my face and Benji smiles a bit, smacks them away from my forehead. He swings his legs where he's sat atop the island, a bowl of cereal next to him.

He points to my neck again.

"A chain."

"Not that." He says, presses his finger to the side of my throat, "It's purple. Did you hurt it?"

"No." I say, smother another yawn, "Didn't hurt."

"Oh." He says contemplatively, tucks his legs underneath himself, "What is it, then?"

"Hickey."

"What's that?"

I crack my neck, ready to explain-

A hand slaps over my mouth from behind.

I murmur against it, "Wasn't even about to say anything."

"Whatever you were about to say, shut it." Ria says, letting go of my mouth just to shove the back of my head playfully, "Spend so much money on clothes, how about you stop walking around naked?"

I sigh, mutter to Benji, "Look at her, taking note of my nakedness-"

I get another light shove to my head and I grin, let my head drop before I look over my shoulder at her. She can't help but smile a bit whenever I smile at her. Not even Ria Romano can resist my charm, though she'll protest otherwise.

And then my eyebrows shoot up, right to my forehead, "Oh, look, Benj." Can't help my laugh, "She has matching ones. More of them too-" Another shove, but I dodge and let out another laugh, "Jesus take the wheel, what does my brother do to you-"

She gives me such a quick, scathing glare.

I roll my lips into my mouth, quietening because Benji's here. They all believe in censoring themselves around him and I've gotten reprimanded for it a lot, but the boy isn't an idiot. He never has been, probably a bit bad for him at his age anyways but what's so bad about a little sex ed?

Thankfully, she walks away without burning me at the stake or something. I turn my eyes to Benji again, focusing on him. His mannerisms. He likes to slip under your radar but it's a little impossible for him when surrounded by people that centre entirely on him. I never could've envisioned it - what he came to mean to me, but it's nothing short of everything.

He's young. The youngest of us. We got along as soon as we met each other all that time ago, stuck to each other like glue and the past couple of years, it's felt like I've grown rapidly. Felt like he has too, but I'll never ever have a life that doesn't make room for Benjamin Markov.