summer in the city 「 s.stan 」

DAY 2

— AUGUST 2ND —

You woke up with a groan, sleepily rolling over to check the clock on your bedside table. Judging by the sunlight flooding the room, you guessed you'd slept in a little – which was understandable, given the time difference between San Francisco and New York.

It was 3pm.

And you were supposed to meet your friends at 2pm.

"Oh," you mumbled, still slightly disorientated as you fumbled around, trying to pick up your phone. When you finally succeeded, you clicked on Allie's contact to FaceTime her, not caring about your obviously dishevelled appearance.

"She's alive!" Allie sarcastically shouted when she picked up the phone. You could see her trying not to laugh when she noticed the state that you were in. "Jeez, somebody had a rough night! When I sent you to stay with Seb, I thought you guys would fuck, but not this early—"

"Oh my God," you cut her off, "keep your voice down!"

"Why, is he in bed with you right now? Tell him I said hi! HEY, SEB—"

"Allie! I did not have sex with Sebastian!" You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to fight off the smile that crept its way onto your face. "But I'll admit, he is pretty cute."

"So you would fuck him?"

"Is the sky blue?" you shot back, before clapping a hand over your mouth as you realised that, if Sebastian was in the apartment, he could probably hear everything that you were saying. Allie burst out laughing as you blushed furiously, before quickly changing the subject.

In your half asleep, not particularly observational state, you didn't notice Allie frequently glancing to her left as you made comments about Sebastian. Unbeknownst to you, there was a reason she brought him up.

Because coincidentally, he wasn't inside the apartment.

He was sitting next to her, and he heard every single word of what you said about him.

But Allie wasn't about to tell you that. Not yet, anyway.

⋆

By the time Sebastian arrived home, it was around 6pm. You were sitting on the couch (thankfully looking more presentable than you did earlier), and you smiled happily at him as he entered the room, carrying a few bags of groceries.

"Hey, lazy," he joked, grinning back at you. "You slept well, then?"

"Yeah, I was out like a light as soon as my head hit the pillow." You nodded towards the bags in his hand. "Shopping?"

Sebastian set the bags on the kitchen counter and motioned for you to join him as he unpacked them. "Okay, Allie told me that you like Mexican food, so I got some ingredients to make fajitas and stuff because it seems pretty easy."

"Easy enough for two people with a combined IQ of less than ten?" You raised an eyebrow, and he laughed loudly.

"Well, we'll see."

You were both hungry, so you got to work immediately. Sebastian, being a gentleman as usual, wanted you to relax while he cooked, but you insisted on helping. You chopped peppers and onions while he prepared the chicken. Everything was going smoothly... until your hand slipped and the knife plunged into the side of your thumb.

"Son of a bitch," you hissed, curling your thumb up in an attempt to dull the pain.

Sebastian promptly stepped away from the chicken and sent you a look of genuine concern. "Shit, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? Are you gonna faint? Oh God, maybe you should—"

"Sebastian," you interrupted, giggling despite the pain, "it's just a little cut, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Let me help, here, come upstairs. Keep putting pressure on it."

You didn't really need help, but you found Sebastian's worrying adorable. In his bathroom, he cleaned the cut and bandaged it, while you tried to control your breathing... not so much because of the injury, but because he was basically holding your hand and you liked it way too much.

When he was done, you thanked him. He smiled sincerely at you, which only made you even more aware of the fact that A) he still hadn't let go of your hand, and B) he was sitting incredibly close to you.

Kiss him, your brain whispered.

You shook your head a little and blinked as you stood up to head back downstairs – which unfortunately meant pulling your hand away from Sebastian's grasp. You noticed an unreadable expression on his face as you walked away, but you chose to ignore it. He followed you out of the room, and the slightly awkward moment was over.

Back in the kitchen, you sighed at the sight of blood drizzled over the chopping board. Glancing at you, Sebastian cleared his throat.

"So... Happy Meal?"