Lams Fluff [In Progress]

Chapter 62

I have nothing to say for myself.

John POV

The first thing I'm cognizant of when I wake up is the gross morning breath but an actual taste taste in my mouth, the sunlight I can't see but know it's there because it's bURNING MY EYELIDS OH MY GOD-, the blankets on me, and the hand softly on my waist. 

I open my eyes, ignoring the piercing, burning feeling that can only be given from the sun (I have sensitive eyes fight me) and instead focus on the ray of sunshine that is Alex himself. 

I sigh quietly, thanking whatever God's out there for blessing me with the most goddamned precious gift I could ever be given- waking up next to someone who loves and respects me much as I do him. 

I can tell he's still asleep, but barely so. I have two options-  I can wake him up now and suffer a hissy fit, or I can watch him for a little while. Before I can do anything however, he stirs and opens his eyes and squints at me. 

"Aw fuck." He murmurs, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes. "I wanted to sleep in."

"You always want to sleep in." I reply, brushing some of the hair out of his face.

"Yes. Now shush." He wraps his arm around me again and pulls me closer, closing his eyes again. I laugh, and untangle myself from him, getting out of bed. 

"Get up soon." I say, walking out the door. He's not going to get up soon. I'm going to have to shove him, then rip the covers off. It's the same routine every morning. He never gets out of bed until he hears someone else brewing coffee for him. "You know sometime I ought to dump you out on the streets. Then you'd have to make your own coffee!" I call to the bedroom, hearing a grunt in response. Before I can do anything, I grab a ponytail holder and bend to shove all of my gross tangled morning hair into a bun.

A couple minutes later, once the coffee's hot, Alex has a slight bruise and the sheets are on the floor. He comes trudging out of the bedroom, hair everywhere, bags under his eyes, and one of Peggy's pink barrettes on the end of some of his hair. I choke back a laugh, and pour myself some before handing him the pot. Wordlessly he grabs a random mug and slams the cabinet door. I just sip and wait for him to calm down. Sleepy Alex is an entirely different person from Caffeinated Alex. Is it possible to have multiple personality disorder from a beverage? Doesn't matter. What matters is that instead of a lazy Saturday morning I have lots to do- and so does Alex. 

"I have a couple essays to write, and then I want to fill out a resume for that company I was telling you about." He says after a long gulp. How he can still talk after repeatedly scalding his throat, I'll never know.

"Alright. But first we need to go grocery shopping-" I say, pausing when he groans. If he ever has to do anything about "domestic" chores he'll drag his feet the entire way. "And meet Eliza and Peggy for lunch." Alex just frowns and sips his coffee. He knows not to complain too much when I'm using a firm tone. 

"Do you want to go out for breakfast or make something at home?" Eggs. Eggs and pancakes sounds very good. I say so, and he nods, pulling the stuff out. "You expect me to make them?" He questions.

"Um, why not? You're the one that can cook eggs."

"Yeah but I always burn the pancakes- the spatula is against me I swear." comes the petulant reply. 

I laugh and say, "Lexi, the kitchen's too small for the both of us to be on the same stove."

Neither of us win. We both make the breakfast and snarf it down- should've gotten up earlier because now I've eaten too fast because I was too hungry. Urg. 

Half an hour later we're at the local Whole Foods (Why Alex insists we go here I'll never know) and he won't let me get anything remotely bad- White bread? No. Twinkies? Nope. Red meat? Apparently not. He doesn't even have to eat it! It's not my fault I like some good beef now and again. Blame it on my father (I always do- ironically of course).

 And then of course there's a homophobic woman- your typical Karen with her typical Caitlins and Jakobs- spelled wrong just to be annoying. "You should be ashamed." Yeah, well fuck you. Go back to your dumbass husband Rob. He's got the grill all going in your green-lawned suberb two-story house. Oh, I'm sorry, was that offensive? Did I hurt you? I'm sure you have a wonderful marriage. Whatever. 

"Let's just check out and leave. I'm sorry." Yes. Yes, that's sounds like a good idea. Why Alex apologized confuses me- we both do that far too much: apologizing for something we can't control or didn't do. It's a reflex for me now- I'm sure it is for Alex also. 

We barely have time to put groceries away- trying to not smash eggs on the subway is always fun to do- before we have to get our asses to the other side of town. The apartment Alex and I got unfortunately is just a bit too far from our friends to be comfortable. It was either this or be more in debt by a more expensive apartment closer to everyone else- thanks college. I've learned about exactly nothing and now I'm in debt. I'm sure New York's financial system is just peachy. There's no way this can be healthy for a state. Someone should do something. But that doesn't matter right now. 

What matters is metting Peggy and Eliza- saying hello's and being shocked at news. Angelica's started dating a guy- which is surprising. It's the first time since some asshole in high school. She's doing great at her new job- yes, yes, nod your head and smile. I'm always not completely there. It's not that I don't enjoy talking to my friends. They're wonderful- they've been there for me so much. But for some reason I'm always half-way focused on something else. It just seems mundane- like this is what everyone does after their first year of college. Ugh. 

Eliza's boyfriend broke up with her- found out she was trans and left, the asshat. Alex promises that he'll beat the shit out of him later, bringing laughs to the table. I laugh too, but only because theirs are infectious. They laugh because something's funny, I laugh because they had. 

I take the first deep breath of the day once we get back home. Alex, of course, heads straight for the "office" area. I could tell he's been itching to write all day. I'm stuck having to clean- as always. Not actually always, but often. Alexander's usually too stuck inside his head to do a decent job. I am too, but I grew up having to act normal and doing normal things, while my mind was wishing to be anywhere but where I was. 

There's no point in thinking about the past and its problems- I just do, and I can't really stop it. I should probably talk to Alex about it. But then I'd probably find out I have a problem, and then have to spend money I don't have on a medication. 

I could be working right now, and then maybe I wouldn't have to worry about money. Always if I had more money. It's not even that much of a problem, yet I still berate myself about it.

I know I should do something productive- the trash needs to be taken out, I have bills to pay, a flat to clean, and general adult things I really probably need to do. What do I do? I lean against the kitchen island and put a hand over my eyes. Why do I want to do anything but something useful? Some days, and this is really starting to turn into one, just the right amount of things go wrong to make it slightly miserable. Affecting your mood for the rest of the day, no matter the amount of good things that occur.

I pull myself out of the kitchen and stand in the office doorway, watching Alex type away at his laptop, his back to me. Frowning slightly, I move towards him and rest my hands on his shoulders. I look at the time. Already pounding away at his computer in ten minutes. And he worked all last night, and the night before.

He looks at me with a smile, mumbling a "hey" before turning back to his computer.

"Hey," I say to him, laughing slightly. "C'mon, talk to me."

"I'm trying to work, you know," He responds to my slight tugging at his shoulders. "What do you want to talk to me about?" He spun around in his spinny chair. (Yes, I am an adult. Yes, I use it to spin around the apartment, screaming)

I took a deep breath. "Well..."

To be continued