wrapped up in you

two.

song for the chapter: Nothing Like You and I by the Perishers

—

Christian woke up in his room in Alpha Sigma. His room is littered with his roommate Mark's athletic memorabilia, such as trophies and team photos, and his Polaroids of him with Summer over the years. Even in the fraternity house it's Christian and Summer. Their room is constantly cluttered with empty cans of beer, finished joints and cigarettes, and clothes lying around the floor, some clean and some not. This is his home, he feels at ease in this room. Mark is almost never in this room during the day time because he's either in training, or in a lectur. He's probably one of the only Alpha Sigs that are actually bothered to go to class— most of them still have undeclared majors.

Christian looks around groggily, a pounding headache present and persistent, but doesn't find Summer, or even any evidence that she was just in his room. He would have panicked if it wasn't for the smell of bacon that wafted in the air. He smiles knowingly and jumps into a pair of grey sweatpants, leaving his torso bare, and makes his way to the kitchen.

Sure enough, there stood Summer, cooking breakfast for the fraternity with an apron that he's not too sure where she found. Some of his fraternity brothers are patiently waiting on the table for the food, the others still passed out from last night's party. Summer's humming to herself a Taylor Swift song, fresh and chirpy. He watches her for a while, dancing a little as she cooks, leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen before making himself known.

He clears his throat and she jumps at the sudden noise, but when she feels his familiar arms wrapping around her waist, she is put at ease. They could have stayed in that position forever, to be honest.

"Good morning, babe." Christian says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She blushes and giggles, switching off the stove before turning to face him. She cuddles into his chest, making his heart burst with fondness. "How was your night? Did you have fun?" he asks. She hesitates for a second.

"It was alright... some girl tried to give me a tattoo but I ran away from her." she replies, and Christian coos at her, giving little nibbles to her chin. She's so small in his arms, and he can't get enough.

"What about you? I'm sure you had an eventful night." she says with a scoff, and he shrugs casually, letting her move the bacons from the pan to a plate to serve on the table. He yawns as she gives the hungry boys the breakfast food, which they devoured almost immediately.

"It was alright. I was looking for you, but you were probably running away from tattoo girl." he says, and she laughs with a definite nod, practically running back to stay secured in his arms.

It's a peaceful Thursday morning. Christian and Summer spent most of it in the kitchen, on the countertops and just talking. They ignore the world around them and are fully engrossed with each other, and only each other. Their pinkies are constantly hooked; a reminder, an anchor, a bubble. Always a bubble around them, impenetrable and magical. When they're together, they look at the world a lot differently. Reality distorts into a liquid mess of blues and purples, and all they have is each other and red, red, red.

Red like her plump lips, and oh how he loves those lips. When she pouts, when she smiles, when she gives him small and chaste kisses. Red like his jacket that she stole from his room, and she parades in it proudly. And it's too big on her and absolutely swallows her whole and it looks kind of ridiculous, but it's too adorable and he can't be mad. Red like the wine she drinks every Sunday morning with her Holy Communion.