Illusional Love (PENDING)

Two

       I keep on walking back and forth between the kitchen and the living room as I take sip by sip from a glass of milk on my hand. Should I or shouldn't. Should I or shouldn't. Argh.

       "What's on your ass, buddy? It's still dawn." She rubs her hand on her eyes while was walking with close eyes. And her dawn is like 8 AM in the morning. My intelligent Brittoley.

       Should I tell her? No, I don't think so. But why not? Whatever it's your life. What a lazy inner-voice.

       "Look at the sun, Brit. It's not dawn." I point to the big window in our apartment that's set right in the corner near the couch, letting her see that the sun is already setting on the sky up high. She doesn't even need to see, because even the temperature is telling that it's not dawn right now, not anymore.

       She sighs and sits on the couch. "It still feels like dawn to me."

      I roll my eyes as I walk towards the kitchen. "You want pancakes?" I take out the mixture I've made two days ago from the fridge and put it down on the counter. This is what going to happen when you live with your best-friend who had no skills at cooking.

       "Vanilla would be nice." Opening the plastic wrapper and I quickly stir the mixture. I take out the pan from the hanger and put it down on the stove as I turn on the heat.

       "No strawberry or chocolate?" I look up to see that she lays her body at the couch. Oh my lazy-sleepyhead Brittoley. Please add the rolling eyes.

       "Just vanilla." She mumbles it out from her lips as she lays down on the white couch I always adore.

       "No fun!" I get no answer from her so that I look at her again to find out that she has gone back to sleep, the snores go out from her mouth.

       I shook my head in disbelief. I take the bowl of mixture in my hand and pour the mixture on the pan I've been heating. It's clearly hot now that I start to see the hot fade smokes from the pan. People must've thought that making a pancake when the mixture has already settled is one of the easiest thing in the world. But not for Brit, because instead of making the pancakes done, she will definitely burn our apartment down.

       Flipping it once before I get our plate from the cabinet and put down the pancakes on our plates as I sit down on our couch near her. "Britney? Alex Pettyfer is here!" I use my little baby voice.

       She points her finger on me. "Oh you lying bastard, where's my pancakes?" She mumbles at me as her head still laying on the table.

       "I ate it all."

       She heads her head up as her droopy eyes open so widely. "You what?!" Her eyes are bloodshot from the droopy eyes that happened to be wider than usual.

       "Chill your ass down, they're all on the counter." I roll my eyes at her. She's so freakin hilarious about food, more than I will ever be myself.

       She stands up and walks toward the counter to take her plate right I can't even blink my eyes for once. I shake my head in disbelief, again. How could I befriend with this piranha anyway?

       I walk over to the counter, sitting on the dining seat beside her as I join her eating my pancakes. So, we've lived in this boring apartment for almost four years, right after we graduated high school. Ahh I miss high school.. only if it's without Sean.