¿ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀʟ? ✰𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙏𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨✮

✰. 32

Winter Weather

✰

You were woken up by sounds of knocks rather early in the morning. You didn't expect anyone... besides Alex, who basically begged you if he could decorate the naked tree in the living room.

Wrapping a warm blanket around your shoulders, you waddled across the house and to the front door where the knocks were never ending. Opening the door was like entering the dairy section of a grocery store. Cold as balls.

"Finally, I thought you died," Alex kindly pushed you aside and entered your humble abode without permission. You didn't care that much. It was cold outside, and the home was fairly warm.

“Wish I did,” you mumbled to yourself quietly. He seemed confused about what you said and kept his eyes on your figure as you locked the door behind you and padded your way to the living room to turn up the portable heater. “Alex, it’s seven in the morning. I thought you’d arrive later. Did you even ask your mother?” 

“Kind of…” he shrugged and found a nice blanket on the couch. Wanting to be warmer, he took the soft fabric and wrapped it around his shoulders, much like you did. “But she knows you! So technically, I’ll be okay.”

“Sure, but if your mom calls, you are going back,” you gave him a fair warning and trudged to the kitchen, wanting to boil some water for tea. “Which means I will kick you out.”

“No,” Alex shook his head in assurance. He sat on the stool of the kitchen island and watched you turn on the stove and set the small pot over the blue and orange flame, “You love me too much to do that.”

“You are right,” you agreed with a small nod. Stepping away from the stove, you went to your kitchen pantry and searched for tea. “Do you want tea too, Alex?”

“Um… sure. Yes, please.”

In the small pantry, you gave a hum, which then turned to humming a Christmas song. He stayed quiet, watching your sleepy actions as you tore open the packets of dry leaves and let them rest in mugs. The water in the pot quickly became hot and started to hiss as steam swirled around the stove and in the air. With steady hands, you took the small pot off the flame and gently poured the water into the two mugs.

Not feeling for a conversation, you took out a jar of honey and sugar and slid it over the counter to him along with a spoon, not knowing what he preferred in his tea. The leaves quickly dispersed their flavor in the hot water. He took the spoon at twirled the flavor that rested at the bottom, the water soon becoming a dark tan color.

He read the atmosphere with no difficulty. He understood that you were still tired, having been woken up early to let him enter the home. Alex settled for the quietness and watched as you blew over the steam of the mug with sunken eyes and slouched shoulders. He took the jar of honey from the counter, hearing it glide along the slab, broke the silence of the constant click, and ticks from the clock in the living room. With quiet taps of the spoon on the edge of the mug, he then stuck the utensil in the tar like substance, which glimmered gold when the rays of light shone through the glass. He gathered a good scoop of the sticky honey and mixed it into the hot mint tea, occasional clinks of the spoon hitting the mug. 

He watched the steam dance above his cup and dissipate into the air once he blew over it, only for it to appear once again when he stopped pushing out air from his lungs. Despite the warm environment, he wanted you by his side. He sat up from the stool and carefully moved his cup next to yours as he was leaning over the counter. Getting off the stool, he walked around the island and scooted a seat closer to you. Now that he was at level, he put one arm around your shoulder and leaned closer to you. Using his free hand, he used it to hold her face. He wanted you to look at him.