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TWENTY-TWO | 1/21/16
THE SUNLIGHT STREAMS through the window, and I can practically feel it against my cheeks. I turn on my side, enjoying the cool bedsheets against my bare body. I snuggle closer to the warm body next to me, but I blink open my eyes when I notice the comfortable dip of the bed disappear.
"Where are you going?" I mumble from the bed, watching as Harrison sweeps up his pair of boxers from the floor.
"Gonna take a shower," he says, leaning down and pressing soft a kiss against my forehead, "Sleep some more, babe. It's your special day."
"I have class today," I groan, sitting up and holding the blanket against my chest.
"So do I," he answers, sliding his eyes up my body with a slight smirk on his face, "but we're ditching class today to celebrate, yeah? So, sleep some more, or you can join me."
I grab a pillow and throw it at him, "You're such a pervert."
Harrison catches the pillow, and his smirk grows wider, "You didn't think so last night."
"Oh my god," I groan again, flopping back down on the bed, "Just take your damn shower and let me sleep."
He laughs the whole way there.
•••
WHEN I WAKE up for the second time that morning, it takes a few lethargic moments for me to realize that Harrison is no where to be found in his room. Disgruntled, I slip out of bed, grab walk into the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes. Taking a quick shower, I let all the signs of sleepiness fall off, hoping to start my day with some liveliness. After all, I can't spend my nineteenth birthday like I'm a completely sleep-deprived person.
Well, I am, but that's not really necessary at the moment.
Once I freshen up and put on a light-coat of makeup, I finally make my way back into Harrison's bedroom. There, I find a bunch of balloons all over his room and a boyfriend smiling at me with bright blue eyes. I grin in return before walking forward and wrapping my arms around his waist in appreciation.
Harrison hugs me just as tightly, resting his chin on my head and whispering, "Happy birthday, baby."
"Thank you, Harrison."
"Now c'mon," he says, untangling ourselves from the hug but still reaching for my hand, "I made breakfast for us."
"Damn," I say, impressed, "and you didn't burn down the apartment? Harrison, you really know how to make a woman love you more."
