Pieces [Wattpad's Editor's Choice]

21: BiRtHmArKs

It was already February twenty-seventh; the month of Love was almost officially over. I couldn't let that be the fate of my love life, though slowly, it was turning out that way.

I didn't have school this Friday, but I'd been up since six and didn't plan to go back to sleep. Instead, I studied Arrow sound asleep before me, like maybe I could figure him out.

I didn't even hear Arrow come home last night. His presence was a surprise when I woke up to use the bathroom and found him lying on the couch where I previously slept. Yep, just casually lying on his side, arm dangling off the couch, lips slightly parted, as if he'd been there all night.

What a piece of work.

This morning, I awoke on my bed and not the couch, so either I sleep walked or Arrow carried me. Which did I want to believe, that I was strong and independent even while asleep, or that Arrow was just an apologetic romantic?

How much wine did I have when Isaac was here, anyway? My head pounded.

I looked at the trash can in the kitchen: the whole bottle was in the trash. I know Isaac only had a glass. Honestly, it was for the best.

I stood on the side of the couch, arms crossed, and shook my head down at Arrow. His beautiful eyes fluttered every few minutes. A few strands of hair parted on either side of his head, creating a part down the middle. I'd been studying him for two hours maybe; I dunno, the sun was still down when I first awoke and now it burned my cheek.

I reached out and brushed Arrow's ankle gently. When it didn't wake him, I touched his shoulder and shook him slightly.

"Hey...wake up." I put a hand to his cheek and tapped it. "Come on, the burrito place down the street is having a special and I think you'd be totally into it."

Arrow stirred. It took him a little bit, but soon his eyes were open.

And...oh.

Half of his irises were orange, half gray. Like fire and storm clouds.

"Burritos?" He rubbed his eyes and sat up. "That sounds fun. Does it have a dead cow in it?"

I shook my head. "Not quite." A pause. Then, "Do you feel strange?"

He blinked. Looked around. Exhaled heavily. "My brain feels heavy. I can't imagine how yours feels. Not 'cause of the wine, by the way. Your intelligent mind must be so full of knowledge."

My concern for his health and slight irritation from being stood up last night overshadowed that small compliment. "What about everything else?" I reached out and put a hand to his chest. It was utter impulse; I couldn't help it. "Here. Do you feel anything weird?"

"No."

"Can you see okay?"

"Yeah."

"Breathe okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do I look okay?"

"No."

"Okay-wait, what?" I figured I might have more pimples than usual, but I doubted it was that bad.

"I mean, you have a nice glow to you." He pushed himself upright and straightened his Nike shirt. "That's not just okay, is it?"

Hm. I guess it was a nice compliment. Too many for this morning. Not enough to make up for last night. "Thanks..." I uncrossed my arms and moved to my bag next to my bed. I took the textbooks out and replaced them with a change of clothes and my laptop. "Well you should get ready. I think it's time for a physical."