I can't sleep.
Everyone slept over except for Olivia. She left at nine.
It's three in the morning and I just got back from the store.
I went grocery shopping for the house and got everything we need.
I cleaned the whole house, and now I'm putting away groceries.
Everyone is sleeping.
I put away the last thing and put all the grocery bags in the pantry.
Now I'm standing in the middle of the kitchen in a pair of Channing's sweatpants and a bra.
We had really intense sex before bed.
It's a miracle I left his side.
I'm staring at the kitchen cabinets, when I decide to try something.
I go upstairs and get a clear ornament that breaks into two. I go back to the kitchen and I get white chocolate.
I make brownies, and when they're in the oven, I put the white chocolate in a bowl and put it in the microwave for one minute.
I get them out when they beep and mix the chocolate.
I part the ornament and pour the white chocolate into the ornaments. I moved it all around with it sealed until the whole thing is shut, and I put it in the freezer for thirty minutes.
I make a really quick trip to the store for vanilla ice cream and get back just as the oven beeps.
I remove the brownies.
I cut them and take out two small pieces.
I put them on a plate and put a spoon under hot water.
I smooth the edges of the white chocolate ball, and then I warm the bottom of a bowl and melt a hole in the bottom of the chocolate ball with the bottom of the bowl.
I put a scoop of ice cream over the brownies and put the chocolate ball over it.
I cut out strawberries and put them around the chocolate ball.
I milk dark chocolate until it's complete liquid.
"What are you doing?" a gruff voice asks behind me.
I turn around.
Channing.
"I can't sleep." I sigh.
He wraps his arms around my waist and watches what I'm doing.
I pour the hot fudge over the white chocolate ball, and watch as the ball melts away, revealing the brownie and the ice cream.
"Holy wow." Channing mumbles. "That looks really good."
I clean up everything and let him eat it.
He gives me a spoonful of it, but some of it slops down my chest onto my breasts.
He leans down and licks it right off.
Fuck.
I hurriedly finish cleaning, and when he finishes eating, I put the plate in the dishwasher with the fork and drag him upstairs.
I shut our bedroom door and start kissing him.
The last coherent thought that registers in my head before he throws me on the bed is that his mouth tastes like chocolate covered strawberries.
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Our amount of sex we've had has become so bad that we're acting like newlyweds.
