i want to write you a song, brandon arreaga

twenty-five

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
march 1, 2020

"hey." adele greets, her head resting on the edge of her bed as she sprawls out on her mattress.

brandon glances at her for a second with an amused expression, "hey."

"what're you doing?" she asks, noticing the emerging voices around him.

"at the grocery store. it's my turn to go, i guess."

"you guess?"

"yeah." he huffs, "apparently the boys don't recall me going last week, and the week before that."

she hums drowsily, and he spares another glance. "are you drunk?"

she gasps sarcastically, "how'd you know?"

"you look out of it." he explains, using one hand to grab three boxes of fruit loops. "what's the special occasion?"

"my album dropping tomorrow, then tour next week. but guess what?"

"what?"

"that's not even the best part!" she exclaims, rolling over on her stomach and readjusting her phone to her face. "my dad's gonna visit me in paris for my birthday! i have like, three days there, and he told me he'll spend it with me."

"that's great, adele." he smiles warmly at her. based on what he's heard about her father, he was pretty surprised he'd be willing to visit her in paris.

"thank you, love." she sighs, "what is it, five, for you?"

"yeah." he nods, "just gonna get this grocery together and go home."

"it's getting dark." she reminds, "hurry up. do you drive?"

he chuckles, "yes, i do."

she hums once more, "good. i've been hearing a lot of uber kidnapping crap lately. don't want that to happen to you."

"i'll be alright." he assures, smiling down at her. "you should sleep."

she shakes her head, "stay on the phone with me."

"you sure?"

"of course i am."

she watched as he eventually made it to the register, then loading the groceries into his car.

"it just feels great, you know?" she says as he drives home. "i-i don't tell you much about my dad, but he's the greatest, man. all my life, i just wanted to live up to him."

"you're great enough, adele." he says, "i'd say you've lived way past him."

"i don't think so." she sighs, "he got me into singing when i was younger, but eventually let me learn on my own when he taught my brother."

he frowns, feeling not very fond of her father. but he pushes it aside, "yeah? you know, you've never told me your brothers name. what if i've passed him before?"

"so what?" she asks. "he's not important."

he shrugs at her response, letting her drunken thoughts continue to pour out of her lips. he didn't mind listening to her and everything she had to say. she'd either be lost in some deep thought, or talking about the most meaningless things. either way, it didn't matter to him. her voice was music to his ears.