defect ➵ scömìche

seventeen

Mitch Grassi's POV

I REMEMBER WAKING UP LAST night and being in immense pain, but Scott helped me. And then I kissed him for a second, but that's it. And so when we woke up the next morning again, I felt bad for waking him in the middle of the night, and so I figured I could go with him on the possible date tonight to make it up to him. If he wanted to, anyways.

"Scott?" I looked in my living room. He refused to leave after my injury, and I wasn't complaining. "Yeah?" He looked up at me from his phone.

"Uh, so, sorry about waking you up last night. We could do that thing you wanted to tonight, if you want," I shrugged, blushing a bit. "The thing? Do you mean the date?"

"Date. Yeah," I confirmed.

"Okay, sure. But what about your wound? Are you gonna be able to go with it?"

"Even if it hurts, I'll get through it. I want to go, don't worry."

"If you say so," he stared at me with a look that made me think he was examining me. "What?" I looked behind myself self consciously. "Nothing, nothing," he shook his head and went back to his phone.

***

I wasn't really sure where we were going, or when, so when I went back to my guest bedroom, where I saw him an hour ago, he looked like he was about to explode. I wanted to ask him why, but somehow I knew he didn't want to talk about it. "Hey," I said softly.

His attention snapped to me, and his features softened a little. "Hi."

"Where and when are we going?" I inquired.

"Where is none of your concern and when is in about an hour. Wear something warm and casual," he smiled. I furrowed my eyebrows, but nodded, "Okay, well, come get me when we are leaving."

He nodded as I left the room and returned my own. Something warm?

I eventually chose a black, long sleeved sweater with the logo 'Vetements' on it, and light blue jeans. I didn't know what to do with my hair, and I felt as if I should dye it soon. Scott mentioned I was rambling about it while I came back here, and I was confused, but now I understand. I think I'd rock blond or purple.

I let out a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves and myself down, and unfortunately it didn't do much, but I could focus a little bit better. I let my hair fall to the side of my face like usual, and I added some concealer to my face, mostly because I felt a little self conscious. I know Scott wouldn't judge me like that, but just in case, right?

I figured I was done, and I think I dressed warm enough. It was only January, almost February, so it wasn't that cold. Eventually, after some time, I was about to leave my room when Scott decided to come in, so when I opened the door, I jumped in surprise, holding my heart. "God, don't fucking scare me like that," I breathed. "Sorry, Mitch," he shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Whatever," I chuckled. "Did you come in here to get me?"

"Yeah, actually. Are you ready?" He inquired, looking at my 'casual' and 'warm' outfit. His was a simple Disneyland sweatshirt and some black skinny jeans, but he looked amazing nonetheless. I nodded, "Can you tell me where you're taking me. Please?"

"Nope, but it won't be as good as it sounds, unfortunately," he said. I wanted to tell him that it was probably going to end up being the best date of my life, but I didn't. We both walked down hallway to the door, and then I decided it wouldn't do much harm if I held his hand, so I grabbed his oddly cold hand and squeezed with a smile. "Your hands are really cold," I noted out loud. "I know. They usually are," he mumbled. "But yours are warm."