the fall • s.m.

17 • kissing

// shawn mendes //

@shawnmendes: "you can't go to bed without a cup of tea, and maybe that's the reason you talk in your sleep. And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep, though it makes no sense to me."

@margotkatefrankin retweeted your tweet.

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I woke up to singing. Margot's singing. I smiled to myself as I listened to her. She was singing "Kid In Love." I swear, this girl is going to be the death of me.

The bed was empty, but she was here. I lackadaisically got out of bed, stretching and rubbing my tired eyes. I left the room and followed her voice to the kitchen. She was still singing in her own little world.

"Maybe I'm just a kid in love, maybe I'm just a kid in love, oh baby. If this is what it's like falling in love, then I don't ever wanna grow up."

I leaned against the wall, and she eventually turned to notice me. Her eyes widened, then lit up. "Morning," she said, and I smiled.

"Morning. Whatcha making?" I asked, taking a few steps towards her and wrapping my arms around her waist.

"Pancakes. I can't cook for crap, but I can make pancakes."

"I can also make frozen pizza. And toast. As long as I don't leave it in for too long," she said, and I laughed.

I was surprised by her cheerful disposition. I thought she would still be upset from last night. I guess she's learned to get over things quickly. My heart hurt for her again.

"You didn't have to make anything. I should be making breakfast for you, actually," I told her, and she shook her head.

"I bet your pancakes suck," she replied, and the two of us laughed.

"Touché."

I leaned against the countertop, watching her. This could be a good life. Fall asleep together, wake up together. Make her smile and laugh, comfort her when she cries. I could repeat this cycle everyday and never get sick of it.

"I liked your singing," I told her, and her cheeks turned red.

"Shut up," she said, not looking at me.

"Seriously. Especially to my song. I thought it was perfect," I told her, and she smiled a little.

"Better than when you sang it, right?"

I nodded. "So much better."

We discussed how stressful our lives would be when we had to part at the end of summer over our breakfast. She explained to me all of the struggles of being in school, and how she was just dying to get it over with. I explained the struggles of life on tour, even though it definitely wasn't as bad as school. Touring is fun. This time, I'm just not as excited, and I know it's because of her, but I'm going to pretend it's not.

After we had finished, we both retreated to the kitchen to clean up the mess Margot had made, which she insisted I should not help with. I wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Sometimes I wish we were a little older and just had normal lives," I said after a moment or two of silence.

"What?" she asked.