Daniel Seavey
➵
I glance at the clock and sigh, realizing yet another lazy afternoon has come and gone.
I untangle myself from Daniel's arms before sliding off our bed and letting my feet hit the hardwood floor. As I'm straightening wrinkled clothes and a messy ponytail, Daniel squints through sleepy eyes to look at me.
"What're you doing?" he mumbles, obviously still out of it. I smile to myself when his tired voice reaches my ears.
I lean back across the bed, just for a moment, to kiss him on the forehead.
"The house is a mess," I say.
I attempt to scoot back to an upright position but his arms have locked behind my shoulder blades and though he looks like he's sleeping, he manages to hold fast.
I wriggle about, trying to get out of his grasp, but he just pulls me on top of him in one quick motion instead.
"Hello," he says, flashing a small smile. I suppress a laugh, knowing that will only encourage him to hold on tighter.
"Daniel," I say, rocking my weight against his arms.
"Hhm?" he hums, shutting his eyes.
"Let go, silly. I've got stuff to do."
His brows creases and he shakes his head.
"Nope," he says, in his sleepy voice, like nothing in the world matters at all. This time I do laugh out loud.
"Daniel Seavey!" I exclaim once I compose myself.
With a reluctant groan, he lets me go. I roll off the bed and grin at him.
"I'm going on a mission."
"A mission," Daniel repeats, eyes still closed.
"Yeah. A cleaning mission. Fun, right?" I say sarcastically, grabbing my phone off of our bed. I retrieve my speaker from a drawer in my dresser.
"I'll be downstairs. Love you," I say as I walk through the doorway of our shared bedroom.
When I reach the kitchen, I turn on Bluetooth and connect my iPhone to the speaker, pull up my La La Land playlist on Spotify, and turn toward the dirty dishes that are spread along the length of the counter and piled next to the sink.
I turn on the faucet, letting the rush of the water hit the metal basin, and get to work.
***
I'm pretty sure I fell asleep again after (y/n) left the room.
Digging up the will to get up, I stumble out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.
(y/n) has her back to me as she stands at the sink, La La Land blasting through the speaker on the counter behind her. I hear her singing a harmony part to Someone in the Crowd, her absolute favorite piece from the movie.
I smile to myself and just watch her from the doorway as she stands at that sink.
It's so like her to get caught up in these kinds of moments. The ones where the beautiful line between reality and fantasy is blurred and the movement and emotion of the music takes over your entire body. You feel as if you're frozen in time.
The water is still rushing into the sink but I don't think (y/n)'s aware. The music picks up and I find myself tapping my foot to the undeniable beat of it. Then, suddenly, it takes a sharp turn and the entire piece slows and quiets down to near silence.
(y/n) turns the water off as if she's in a daze and she spins on her heel, back now to the sink. She still doesn't see me.
She's staring at the ground with this sort of twinkling in her eye. I know that she's still caught up in that blissful moment.
"Is someone in the crowd the only thing you ever see? Watching as the world keeps spinning round. Somewhere there's a place where I find who I'm gonna be. A somewhere that's just waiting to be found," she sings, softly. My heart swells at the sound of her voice.
And just like that, the tempo begins to quicken once again, not all at once, but little by little, poco a poco. In a way, you just know the big finale of the song is coming.
With each hum of the strings, I take a step towards (y/n). She looks up, sees me coming, and throws her head back in a laugh.
When she raises it once again, I can tell she's trying very hard to keep a straight face. She makes her way toward me, in the exact way I am making my way over to her.
Now I'm laughing, but mostly because of our childish stupidity. I love it.
I finally reach her, grabbing her hands and beginning to step in time with the song in a circle. And then, the beat picks up.
We spin and spin and spin until the song reaches the inevitable, tremendous finale. The music gradually fades out.
"Oh my word," (y/n) says, slightly out of breath, "I'm going to have motion sickness for days."
I shake my head, laughing to myself. She's so perfectly fragile.
She leans away from me to stop her phone from moving onto the next song and then faces me once again, holding both of my hands within hers.
She doesn't look at me, just shuts her eyes. I catch a faint smile on her lips.
"I have goosebumps," I whisper, leaning my forehead on the top of her head.
"From the song?" she says. "Me too. Every single time I listen to this playlist."
"Maybe that's not why I have goosebumps."
(y/n) backs out from under my chin, though our arms still remain wrapped around each other. Her eyes are glinting with curiosity.
"Now, what is that supposed to mean?" she asks incredulously, staring straight into my eyes.
"Well, let's just say that you are quite adorable. All the time."
"I'll take the compliment, Seavey," she says, laughing, "but I wasn't even doing anything... cute."
When she repeats the last word, she scrunches her face in mock disagreement.
"That. That right there," I say, grinning at her. "Every single thing you do is beautiful to me. Every movement, word, and note is beautiful."
A smile grows on her face as I pull her into a hug.
"Even when I'm doing the dishes?" she says, a light laugh laced in her voice.
"Even when you're doing the dishes," I repeat.
