Playing With Fire || d.h

52. No One Ever Stays

Your POV

"(Y/n)...wake up..." I groan, feeling something poking my ear. I swat it away precariously, but my attempt only results in someone's laughter, and the annoying poking resumes.

"What..." I moan, turning my head but not willing enough to open my eyes.

"We're going out today. Get up, get dressed, whatever it is you do before going out." My eyes pop open, only to attempt to close themselves again at the stunning light filling the room. I see a pale figure with dark hair hovering over me.

I scoot up until I'm leaning against the headboard, Dan straightening up. "I said, get up! We're going out! Having fun! If I stay in here for another minute, I'm gonna go fucking ballistic!" He shouts, marching out of the room.

"Are you sure you haven't already?" I mutter under my breath, sitting up and stretching.

"I heard that!" A disembodied voice shouts from the other side of the wall.

I sigh, and pull myself out of bed. I dress in a pair of high-wasted Levi shorts, a long sleeve striped shirt, and a pair of Nike Cortez's. I do a quick messy French braid down my back, and walk into the bathroom. While I start applying my makeup, Dan throws the door open.

"Hey! I coulda been peeing!" I yell, slapping him.

"Hey! But you weren't," he yells back, mocking my tone. I only roll my eyes, and go back to doing my brows. "You almost ready?" He asks impatiently, leaning against the doorway.

"I don't think you realize how long it takes to look as good as I usually do," I joke.

"Oh, whatever," he sighs. "You look perfect either way. Different, but equally as perfect."

"Aw, you so romantic," I say in a sickly sweet voice.

"I know," he chuckles, kissing me on the cheek and hopping out of the bathroom. What a fucking weirdo.

Dan's dressed in black skinny jeans, a white graphic tee, and a dark bomber jacket. "Wow, you're really dressed for the nice weather," I sneer sarcastically.

"Hey, there's a little bit of color!" He shouts defensively, pointing to the itty bitty bit of red on the otherwise monochrome graphic of his shirt. I only roll my eyes, laughing. He can have this one. I don't know what's gotten into him, but I'm just happy to see him a whole lot more chipper than he's been recently. He's been working on whatever project nonstop, and it's gotten to the point that I sometimes have to sleep on the couch, because he never goes to bed.

"Ayy! No!" Dan swats my hand away as I'm about to grab a box of cereal from the pantry. I raise my eyebrows, obviously offended. "We're going out for breakfast, dummy," he laughs.

"Oh, I'm the dummy, right, that makes sense," I remark sarcastically. However, instead of responding, he grabs my hand and starts pulling me through the hall and out of the apartment.

"Wait-Dan! Dan!" I try to pull myself back, but he's obviously stronger, and pulls me down the stairs and out of the apartment. Luckily I already had my bag on me.

We step outside onto the busy street, and Dan finally stops. "Jesus Christ, what was that about?" I ask, Dan now walking at a normal path down the street.

"Well, If we're gonna have fun, we gotta move as fast as possible!" He sputters, not turning to look at me.

"What are you on?" At first I mean it as a joke, but now I'm starting to actually consider it.

"What? Am I not allowed to be happy?" He asks in a serious tone, but I know he's joking by the stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Be as happy as you want. I'm just a little confused about where this Dan came from."