L I Z
Blueberry pancakes.
In case you're wondering why I had that thought just now, it's because I can smell blueberry pancakes from my bedroom.
I got out of bed and made a mad-dash downstairs to the kitchen, where I saw Marcus, cooking in all his glory.
"Good morning, sunshine." He smiled happily, flipping his pancakes.
The smell is overbearing and my mouth begins to water at the sight of the freshly made pancakes. He notices and gives a fruitful laugh.
"Don't worry; I know how much you like blueberry pancakes."
I smile gratefully at him, taking in his morning features. His hair is not in it's usual combed-over look; It's shaggy, standing up like he had just rolled out of bed. He wore the same jeans he was in the previous night, but he'd taken off his shirt, showing off his prominent abs. His deep brown eyes looked drowsy, yet they still caught the reflection of the sunlight.
"Liz? Did you hear what I said?" Marcus snapped me out from my thoughts and brought me back to reality.
He smirks, "I guess not. I asked if you were doing anything today."
"Oh, no I'm probably going to stay inside today, I don't really want to get out." I shrug, sitting at the island in the middle of my kitchen.
"You got any plans?"
"No, but I really don't want to be a burden." He says, placing my pancakes in front of me along with syrup and a fork.
I grab the syrup and pour it over my meal before digging in. The taste is far too satisfying and I let out a groan. Marcus always had a knack for cooking a good meal.
"Thank you so much, Duckie." I say with a mouthful of food.
"No problem. I going to head over to my house and change, I'll be back soon."
"Bring a suitcase! I want you to stay here for a few days!" I shout before he closes the door.
• • •
Eventually, he does come back with a duffle bag of clothes and his toothbrush.
I'm excited for us to catch up, it seems like light years since we've held conversation as friends, but actually it's only about six or seven months.
I look down at my clothes; well, I'm still in my pajamas- a black onesie with a white tank top underneath.
"Damn, gotta change!" I run upstairs and lock my bedroom door.
I choose to go comfortable; I mean, I'm not leaving, so why dress up?
I wear light purple pajama pants and a white sweater. My feet feel cold as heck, so I put on socks.
Satisfied with my appearance, I walk downstairs to see Marcus in the cinema room again, setting up for the both of us. A French romance plays on the screen.
"Ma chérie , je te aime plus que les étoiles illuminent le ciel de nuit."
(My darling, I love you more than the stars illuminate the night sky.)
"Comment vais-je sais que votre amour est vrai ?"
(How will I know that your love is true?)
This movie is one of my favorites, and I'm surprised to know that he remembers this little thing about me. Then again, Marcus likes the little things in life.
"Rappelez-vous ce film , mon amour?" He asks.
"Bien sûr!" I reply, laughing along with him at our fake accents.
"Ah, I see you've set up for the two of us. Nice job." I smirk.
Marcus grins proudly before getting under the covers. He pats the seat next to him, and I take the seat, leaning my head on his shoulder.
I've seen this movie maybe a million times, and I'm out like a light after 15 minutes.
• • •
I groggily wake up, yawning in the process. I hear chuckling next to me.
Turning my head, I'm faced with Marcus, who is staring at me and laughing.
"What's so funny?" I ask, getting suspicious.
"Nothing, it's just that you yawned so loudly, it was cute."
Right now I'm thankful that he can't see my blush in the dark room.
The movie credits roll onto the screen, and I get up to turn it off. Suddenly I'm lifted, and despite my squeals he won't let go.
We're both hysterically laughing by the time we reach the top step, and it takes a while for us to calm down.
"Oh my God... why did you... just... carry me... oh God..." more tears of laughter come as I struggle to catch my breath.
Finally, we calm down and enter my music room.
"Alright, anything new in Lizzie C. world?"
"Ooh love songs." I say excitedly, already sitting at the piano.
"Go on, love. I'm ready when you are." He gives a warming smile.
"Oh it's you I know, you're the one I dream of
Looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above,
Oh I lose control, can't seem to get enough,
When I wake from this dream, tell me is it really love,
How will I know if you really love me
I say a prayer with every heart beat
I fall in love whenever we meet
I'm asking you what you know about these things
How will I know if you're thinking of me
I try to call but I'm too shy, can't speak
Falling in love is so bitter sweet
This love is strong why do I feel weak
Oh wake me, I'm shaking, wish I had you near me now,
Said there's no mistaking, what I feel is really love,
How will I know
How will I know
How will I know
How will I know
How will I know if you really love me
I say a prayer with every heart beat
I fall in love whenever we meet
I'm asking you what you know about these things
How will I know if you're thinking of me
I try to phone but I'm too shy (can't speak)
Falling in love is so bitter sweet
This love is strong why do I feel weak."
I play the ending notes before being applauded by Marcus.
"That was amazing!" He cheered, giving me a quick hug.
"Thank you, it took a while to write."
"Wow, you know you've really got talent. What's that song called?"
"I call it 'How Will I Know'." I smiled.
The rest of the day was spent talking about my music and some cases Marcus had.
A few hours later, we were both out.
