Mr. Graham

Chapter Twenty Three

Aubrey

I woke up to see Kamaria in my arms. She was sound asleep.

I look at the clock. Three thirty seven am.

"Damn," I groan. I slowly get up and grab Kamaria with me and put her to sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch.

I grab my pillow until I hear a noise. "Hey," I turn around and see a still sleep Kamaria.

"What's up?"

"You don't have to sleep in the living room."

"Nah it's all good," I reassure her.

She pats the spot next to her. "Come on buddy," she laughs. She was so cute when she was sleepy.

Not wanting to argue, I slip into the sheet with her and fall asleep.

I had to make her mine. No more stalling.

Kamaria

I woke up in the morning, feeling more refreshed than ever. I had never slept so well in my life.

Aubrey's bed was unbelievably comfortable, it was insane. I felt like I slept on pillows.

I roll out his huge sheets and stretch myself out. He was so adorable when he slept ...like a little baby.

I felt my stomach growl. Maybe I'd make something to eat.

I found his kitchen, and made my way to his fridge. He had everything. He was very fit so I was expecting a lot of healthy foods. I'd say he had a good balance.

Pancakes.

That was the first thing that came to my mind. I made hella bomb pancakes so that's what I was gonna do. I got myself some ingredients and got to work.

The house smelled like Christmas morning at my house when I was very young. I hadn't had this in a while and I was excited nonetheless to share it.

I was flipping my last pancake when I heard footsteps and a groan.

"Kamaria—?" I look over and see a confused Aubrey standing in the middle of the living room.

"I thought you left," he mumbled. I shook my head. "No I just thought I'd make pancakes."

He smiled. "Oh they smell very good."

"I know," I smirk. He laughs at my cockiness and stands next to me.

"Merry Christmas Kamaria."

Aubrey

She looks at me for a brief second and smiles at me.

"Merry Christmas Aubrey."

I was surprised to find her in the kitchen. She knocked out pretty hard last night.

But her cooking smelled beauteous nonetheless. I was excited to eat bruh.

"I think I'm done," she flips her last pancake and places it on the plate. She carries it to the table.

I brung glasses of orange juice. Yes, I drink something other than alcohol.

"Thank God you have normal syrup," she breathes out.

I look at her confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

"My mom used to refuse to buy syrup unless it was like this no sugar brand that shit tasted nasty," she told me. I chuckled at her facial expression and sat down. She looked kind of nervous.

"Sit," I open a chair. She scurries over and sits next to me.

"Thank you again for letting me invade your home," She tells me.