Star's Theory

July 4

I wake up in a tangled mess of damp sheets and Mason's limbs. As I groggily rub my head, groaning as the piercing sound of children running outside alerts me of my pounding headache.  But it only gets worse. Flashbacks of this morning, or was it last night, maybe just a few hours ago, flood back in short bursts.

Mason and I talking at the bar.

Mason and I drinking at the bar.

Me spilling my guts out to Mason.

Mason wrapping a comforting arm around me. 

Mason leaning in.

Mason's mouth on mine.

When this small shard of memory reaches my immediate attention, I nearly fall off the bed, but no matter what, I can't seem to push it out of mind anymore. So I get up and pace around our small room, stopping every few rounds to take a sip of water. By the time Mason finally wakes up, I've managed to convince myself that my highly intoxicated mind is simply playing tricks on me. And I put on a smile, ready to turn around and face him, pretending as if I don't remember anything.

Until he wraps an arm around me from behind, kissing my head gently. Startled, but not wanting to show it, I awkwardly duck out of his hold, give him a shy smile and speed walk into the bathroom. 

Um, what??

What in the world could've possibly happened last night??

99% of me wants to just run a bath and forget about all of this for as long as possible. But the slightly more reasonable 1% of me warns that I'm going to have to leave this bathroom eventually so I should at least try to remember what actually happened. 

"Hey, is this okay?" he asks, his eyes swimming with concern. Or maybe it's just because I'm really drunk. 

"Perfect," I whisper, leaning into him. It's perfectly calming yet exciting at the same time. A perfect distraction that doesn't make any sense at all but I don't want it to ever be over.

We dance the rest of the night (or day) away, as cliché as it sounds: everything from rock bands we've never heard of to the slow love songs. 

Around dinner time, wait, who am I kidding, I have no idea what time it is. When we get hungry, Mason orders some fries, which I laugh at, but end up stealing anyways. 

By the time we finally leave the lounge, the sun is already setting on the cruise deck and he leads me to the railing overlooking the waves. In a moment only found in romance movies, we watch the last of the oranges and reds disappear into the horizon miles and miles away before we walk back to our room, hand in hand.

I look into the mirror and realize my lips have curled into a smile. Is there any way to describe it except... perfect? I know I'll have to thoroughly ponder this later on but maybe, just this one time, I can forget and live in the moment. I want to make these last few days amazing: no regrets, no worries.

I quickly brush my teeth and push open the door to Mason ordering breakfast. 

"A large order of mac and cheese," he says into the phone, grinning when I walk towards him. I raise an eyebrow, silently thanking him for remember my favorite food on the planet.

Then, feeling extra giddy and brave, I pull him towards me and plant a kiss directly on his lips. His eyes widen in surprise and he loses his grip on the phone. 

I swiftly snatch the phone out of the air and add cheerily, "plus waffles and pancakes. Thank you!" 

He laughs along with me and kisses me again. 

Perfect.

~~~

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Love you all so much (we're so close to 500 reads)! 

<3 Emma