one flight (djs)

10

Gen's POV

I look down at what's lying on the bed.

"You got me a sweatshirt?" I ask.

"It's actually my sweatshirt," he says proudly, puffing his chest out.

"So, you got me a used sweatshirt?" I ask still serious.

Daniel's face instantly turns upset and he almost shrinks down a couple inches.

"Um is that bad?" He asks sheepishly. He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as I stare at him with a blank expression.

I wait a few moments before jumping into his arms.

"No, I love it" I whisper in his ear.

His arms wrap tighter around me and he just holds me.  We stay like that for a while.

When I pull away Daniel picks up his sweatshirt and hands it to me.  I slide it on and it falls to my knees.

"Maybe you should wear that to the next party you go to." Daniel laughs.

"I like it. It's soft,"

"It looks good on you," he says.

—————

Daniel decides that we should watch a movie.

He grabs the remote and turns the tv on.  He flips through channels until he finally picks one.

I'm sitting beside him, a good half foot in between us, but as the movie continues, the space disappears until I'm right against his shoulder.  I lean my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me.

This is nice.  Peaceful.  Comfortable. Can it be like this forever?

"Hey, we need to get up. The guys are waiting for us," a soft voice whispers in my ear.

I slowly open my eyes and see Daniel looking at me.  I gradually sit up, and Daniel shifts and stands up, stretching his legs.

"Do I look bad?" I ask, trying to fix my hair blindly.

He turns and smiles.

"You look beautiful, angel," he says and holds his arms out towards me.  I grab his hands and pull myself up and into him.

He hugs me tightly before saying, "We need to get downstairs or someone's going to murder me,"

I laugh and start moving towards the door.

"Wait, you thought you were going to leave? You're missing something," Daniel says.

I turn and see Daniel hasn't moved but is looking at me.

"What did I forget?" I ask, doing an internal checklist.

"This," he says and holds his hand up. "You're supposed to hold onto it for me,"

I smile and walk over, intwining our fingers.