#A Truck Does Nothing To An Airplane AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sequoiann · 7 years ago

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one door down

pairing; joshua hong x reader genre; total fluff + neighbor!joshua + neighbors to lovers!au ? is tht a thing? if it’s not then i shall make it a thing bc yes ahaha word count; 5.4k words

synopsis; you moved in to your new place, and you and joshua first meet when he helps you out with the boxes bc you were taking forever to do it yourself. his room window was kinda directly opposite yours, so cue random paper airplanes flying into your room and you hearing him play the guitar in the mornings. and every other good shit you can think about when it comes to neighbor!josh (happy birthday shua!)

“Here we are, Miss,” the taxi driver spoke gruffly from his seat as the car slowed to a stop. It wasn’t in any sort of annoyed tone, it seemed that his voice was just deep as it is.

You glanced out of the taxi window and a pretty regular, 2-story house was in view. You quickly pulled out a few dollar bills from your wallet, passing it over to the driver first before you got lost in examining the exterior of your new residence.

Thanking the driver and getting out of the car, you hastily grabbed your single luggage from the bunk before slamming the cover back down. You looked up at the house that was somewhat towering over you, it’s V-shaped roof casting a shadow. The roofline didn’t peak in the center as was the fashion in the previous decade, but instead sloped a little to the left. It looked new — not too new, but newer than you had expected. It looked as if it had been rolled off a production line, but they had forgotten to apply the mandatory layer of color to it. The windows were huge and glassy, with a pretty, soft blue tint to it. You walked closer to it and could see the intricate patterns of wood on the walls of the house, although it was a clean white and grey.

You dug for the keys that your mother had entrusted you in your backpack. It was buried somewhere deep in the front pocket, and after a period of rummaging, you finally felt the jump ring, pulling it out along with all the other keys attached to it. You unlocked the main door with a tinge of excitement bubbling in your heart, pushing the door open to meet the place you’d be staying it for a big part of the rest of your life.

Entering the house, you closed the door behind you and lifted your bulky luggage — not wanting the wheels to stain the wood flooring — and shuffled to a corner of the living room, placing it down. Surfaces of white, glossy plastic iced over the kitchen that was situated to the left of the room, granite enforcing the walls in their straight, uninspired monotony. There was a wallpaper of some sort covering the walls of the other parts of the house, providing warmth in some way. The stairs leading up to the second floor was right at the back wall of the first floor, but wasn’t hidden. Every line was clean and straight, the color scheme being cream, white, and grey. With browns.

Your phone started ringing then, and you picked up immediately. It was your mother.

“Yes, Mom, I’ve arrived,” you told her, wrapping your fingers around the handle of your luggage again and walking towards the stairs with some difficulty from the weight.

“Oh, good! How’s the place? Have you explored?” she asked, sounding way more excited than you were.

You grunted softly as you climbed up the stairs, thuds erupting with every heavy step you took. “Kind of.”

You finally reached the second floor and saw 3 rooms in the short hallway. You entered the first one, before letting your luggage down. You huffed, now focusing on the phone call.

“Why’d you get such a big place?” you asked, trying to make it sound not so much of a complaint. You weren’t complaining. “It’s just me in this entire house, Mom. And it’s gonna be so empty.”

Your mother laughed. “Your Uncle Bob is the landlord, I could get some nice discounts from him,” she stated smugly. “Besides, if any of us visits, we could stay over or something. Or maybe your friends would want to. Who knows?”

You chuckled, relenting. “Okay then.”

“Oh, by the way,” your mother started again. “Go greet your neighbors, I heard there’s someone living next door. I’ve packed some of my homemade muffins in your luggage bag.” You could practically hear how proud she was on the phone. She must’ve been talking about the house on the left side of yours that you saw previously. It looked almost like yours, except it was whiter, its roof colored black. You caught a glimpse of warm, orangey lights inside.

“Mom, no!” you protested. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but that just came out as it did. You heard her hum sullenly on the other side of the line, making you rephrase your words. “I mean,” you muttered, quickly thinking of an excuse. “Your muffins are great, Mom, but it’s 11am in the morning, what if they’re still asleep?”

“Who sleeps till 11?” she frowned.

You rolled your eyes. “I know I do.”

“That’s just you.”

“Mom!” you exclaimed. “It’ll be weird to pop by so suddenly. They aren’t even expecting me. I’ll just live a quiet life here.”

“Y/N, they’d be glad! Just go, knock on the door, say hi, pass them the food, and you’re done!” your mother urged.

You sighed. “I’d like to believe I have social anxiety, Mom,” you mumbled softly, crossing your arms as you sat down on the floor beside your luggage, pulling it down so that it was lying down in front of you before unzipping it with one hand, using your feet to hold it down when it moved. It definitely wasn’t a ladylike sight, but you didn’t really care. Luckily, the luggage didn’t move much due to its weight, so unzipping and opening it with just one hand wasn’t too much of a chore.

“Where did you put it?” you asked your mother, scanning through the overstuffed luggage. You were grateful nothing came spilling out, thanks to the seatbelt-looking things that formed an X over everything, holding them down.

You could visualize your mother’s expression lighting up. “The corner, I think!”

Your hands immediately fly to all four corners of the luggage, and you saw the mason jar of cookies and muffins.

“Found it,” you told your mother, scrutinizing the glass for any cracks, and at the same time peering into it to check if the food were still… well, intact. They fortunately were.

“Great! Now get going, before the moving truck gets there. You’re gonna be busy once it does.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ideas were forming in your head, all seeming quite possibly done.

“I’ll be checking the next time I go over, don’t eat it yourself and don’t hide it either!”

“Yes, Mom, I got it,” you droned. Your cover’s blown.

The call ends there after you two say your goodbyes, and you sighed, looking at the mason jar in your hands. A cute, yellow ribbon was tied on top, and you could tell your mother had put in quite a lot of effort to make it look nice.

Not wanting to let her handiwork go to waste, you stood up, leaving your opened luggage on the floor and going back downstairs. Your hand casually goes to your pocket, making sure your keys were in there before leaving the house and heading over to your neighbor��s.

You couldn’t help but stare when you saw the lights coming from deep inside of the house; somewhat at the back of the living room, if you guessed right. The warm lights contrasted really well with the white exterior and interior, and the design of the house was really simple but futuristic and sleek. Its lines seemed even cleaner than yours, if that was possible.

Tugging on your denim jacket, you walked up to the doorstep, the dark door seeming more intimidating than a regular door should look like. You gulped, your eyes scanning the door as if the spot you picked to knock on would make a huge difference in the person answering it. You took a breath and recited the lines you had to say a few times in your head, before knocking on the wooden door, your knuckles making a sharp, not-too-loud thudding sound. There was silence as you stood there for a while. Your ears perked up to try to pick up any sounds of someone walking towards the door, but there was none.

You internally whooped — the owners were probably out. But if so, then why would the lights be on?

You brushed it off and was about to walk back home when you heard someone call from inside, “Coming!”

The voice was a little rough and obviously belonged to a man. You heard footsteps hastily making its way down the stairs, and you suddenly had the urge to run. Run? Why run?

Before you could even think any further, the door swings open, and a guy stands in front of you. He looked slightly haggard, wrinkles lining his forehead and the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t seem too old. Just the dad-age.

Your practiced lines of introducing yourself came out as a jumble of words, which led to you shutting up and simply handing the jar of food to him. He frowns slightly.

“May I help you?” he asked, and you quickly snapped out of it.

“Oh! Um, I’m so sorry,” you rambled. “I’ve just moved in next door, and my mother wanted me to give you those,” you told him, gesturing over to your house. He leans out a bit to look over to your place, his eyes widening slightly in realization.

“I see,” he said, his voice monotone, a subtle smile on his lips. “Welcome to the neighborhood then.”

You smile. “Thank you, sir.” You looked past his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the inside; it looked as good as you had presumed.

The man lifted the mason jar. “And thank you for these, sweetheart. Help me thank your mother too.”

You nodded, not removing the smile on your face and feeling yourself lighten up at the endearing term he used. “Will do.”

You briskly walked back into the warmth of your house after that, feeling relieved that it wasn’t a grumpy old shag that was living next door. Even thinking about it seemed horrible. You took off your jacket and hung it on the wooden coat rack standing beside the main door, locking the door before going back upstairs.

Unpacking whatever you had in your luggage took everything off your mind soon enough. You had put your music on shuffle, playing it just loud enough for you to hear it. You didn’t want to blast it too loud — it definitely wasn’t a good idea to disturb your neighbors on your first day here. The house was pretty well-furnished, and you had cabinets and closets already built in. Once you unbuckled the X-shaped belt in your luggage, whatever clothes you had packed inside started toppling out, which means you had to refold everything, except for the jackets and coats that you were going to hang up. You sighed and began folding and stacking them up before moving them into your closet.

Lunch was a quick bite of cup noodles which you had brought along, and the moving truck arrived right after you were done with your meal. You left the empty cup (which was a quarter filled with water and seasoning) on a corner of the countertop, hurriedly washing your hands before rushing out of the house.

The driver from the moving truck hopped down from his seat, raising a hand as a greeting when he saw you before starting to pull your boxes of stuff out of the back of the vehicle.

You jogged over, hugging a box of unexpectedly heavy stuff that he passed to you. You muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ before making your way back, kicking your main door open and lowering your stance before dropping the box on the ground beside the coat rack. It was only the first box and your hands already felt like they were burning. You had like, eleven boxes left.

Giving yourself a mental note of encouragement, you headed back out to see the driver unloading the boxes and stacking them up on the sidewalk. You internally wanted to beg him to help you bring some to your doorstep, but you didn’t dare to. Therefore, you had to bring every of the remaining eleven, weighty, burdensome boxes into your house by yourself. You felt tired just thinking about it.

“Sorry I can’t help now,” the driver suddenly spoke apologetically just as you were about to walk back with the second box in your arms. “I’ve got another house to get to after yours.”

Oh.

You nodded in understanding before he climbed back onto his truck and drove off. Sighing in defeat, you stacked the box you were holding on top of another box, attempting to carry both at once to shorten the time needed to get the job done. The second box was blocking your line of sight entirely, so you relied on looking on the ground to find your way to your door.

The box on top suddenly wobbled slightly due to your shaking hands, and you panicked, causing it to waver even more.

“Shoot!” you exclaimed aloud as it lost its balance and fell off to the side.

However, it was caught by someone else who was apparently beside you right when the box fell.

“Woah there,” the man muttered, the box falling perfectly into his arms. You felt yourself breathe again after he caught it. You looked up at him. The man was donning a pair of sweatpants with a dark blue checkered flannel over a white tee, and had hair of a light caramel color, the straps of a black backpack slung over both of his shoulders. His eyes weren’t extraordinarily large, but the brown orbs seemed so gentle that you wanted to stare at them forever.

“T-thanks,” you stammered, unsure of what to do.

“You’re the new neighbor?” he asked, and you nodded, slightly puzzled.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at your house. “I just moved in today. I mean, I’m moving in. Kinda. I’m trying to.” You let out a tired sigh as your eyes traveled to the pile of boxes.

Joshua chuckled lightly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua, I live right next door.” He nodded towards the sophisticated white house you had visited earlier, and you blinked.

“You are?” you quipped. “I went over just now, and someone else opened the door… A man.”

Joshua nodded. “Must’ve been my dad. He doesn’t stay with me, but he comes over sometimes.”

Your lips formed an ‘o’. “I’m Y/N. Hi.”

Joshua stifled his laughter at your awkwardness. “Hi,” he responded. “You seem like you need help with the boxes.”

“Oh, right, the boxes,” you said, remembering your task as you looked at the scattered boxes on the sidewalk. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you, but…”

Joshua smiles, his eyes forming little crescents as he walked towards your house with the box he had in his arms without saying anything. You walked alongside him, entering your house first and placing the box down beside the first one.

“Just leave them here for now,” you told him, and Joshua nods, placing his box on top of another.

“Give me a sec,” he told you suddenly. “I’ll be back in a few.”

You were confused, but didn’t question him as he ran back to his house. You walked back out and picked up another box, and Joshua came running back out a few seconds later. You realized his backpack was gone now.

“That was fast,” you commented as Joshua carried 2 boxes at once. He merely smiled.

So it went on like that, the both of you going back and forth and bringing the boxes in. You two talked quite a bit for a first meeting, from telling each other your ages to discussing your hobbies. He was just a year older than you, you found out.

“That’s all of the boxes, right?” Joshua asked as he placed the last box down in your house, and you nodded.

“Yep,” you confirmed as you glanced outside one last time to make sure nothing was left on the sidewalk. You looked back at Joshua, smiling gratefully. “Thanks a lot. I would’ve taken forever if not for you.”

Joshua chuckled. “No problem,” he said, adding, “You probably would’ve broken some stuff too.”

You laughed, humming in acknowledgment.

“Mhmm. You should go back before your dad starts questioning why you’re here for so long,” you said, and Joshua laughs.

“Sure,” he said, stepping out of your house. “I’ll see you around, right?”

The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink which wasn’t very noticeable. “For sure.”

You brought up some of the boxes into your room, those that contained the stuff that belonged in your private space.

When you walked past your room window, the outside caught your eye. You realized that there was a window from the house next door facing yours, and it was so close it seemed like you could just jump over.

What was even more surprising was that in the room, on the wide bed that was situated in the center of it, was Joshua, still in the same clothes you saw him in, his legs crossed on the bed. A guitar was on his lap, one of his arm resting over it as the other hand pressed down on the strings. He started strumming lazily as if he wasn’t really sure of what he was playing, but the melody still made out something.

He suddenly stopped strumming before looking up, his eyes meeting yours. You felt your heart stop.

“S-sorry!” you shouted across although he would probably be able to hear you even if you spoke in your normal volume. You felt heat crawl up your neck. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

You were preparing yourself for him to be angry or show any signs of negative feelings, but none came. Instead, surprise washed over his features, before a smile appeared as he placed his guitar down on the soft mattress, walking over to the window.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, obviously surprised. “That’s your room?”

“Kinda…?” you droned, looking around. “There are 3 rooms in this house and I’m the only one living here, so…”

“Oh,” he muttered in realization. “Cool! We can talk like this.”

You laughed. It definitely was cool.

Like a Romeo and Juliet thing.

Your friendship with Joshua blossomed a lot over the next few months, and you honestly owed your thanks to the fact that you two were literally living side-by-side. One push of the windows and you two could talk about anything and everything like there was no tomorrow. You two could chatter about the smallest of matters to having deep conversations late into the night, when you would sit down on the elevated marble platform that was built right at your window, your back leaning onto the wall and your legs stretched out. You’d open the windows entirely regardless of the fact that you were at the risk of just falling over, but you knew it wouldn’t happen as long as you didn’t fool around. Joshua would pull a chair over to his window, elbow propped on the silver frame, his chin rested on his fist as he listened to you speak.

You never noticed it yourself but Joshua looks at you like you placed the sun, moon and all the stars in the sky.

Paper airplane conversations became a thing, too. You were the one who started it, actually, and you didn’t really expect him to play along. Your desk was right beside the window, so in the middle of doing some stuff, you grabbed some used papers that you didn’t need, writing a short ‘yo’ on it with a fat, black marker before folding the said paper into an airplane. You then threw it towards Joshua’s window, the airplane easily gliding gracefully through the air and into his room.

He was so confused at first at the arrival of the inanimate object, but he saw you at your window, smiling cheekily. He laughed softly, shaking his head and picking up the airplane. You gestured for him to unfold it and he did, before chuckling to himself again. Joshua took a sheet of paper from his desk, scribbling something on it and flying it over to you. You unfolded that and it read ‘you’re such a child’.

“Excuse me?” you spoke, and Joshua laughed.

“You’re excused,” he joked.

That led to the both of you constantly flying paper planes into each other’s room at random times of the day, whether the other party was in or not. There was once when Joshua wasn’t home, you folded tons and tons of paper planes, flying them all into his room and covering his entire bed and floor. You couldn’t see Joshua’s expression when he entered the room due to the limited view of his room that you could see from yours, but you could visualize how surprised he was from his exclamation of “oh God, oh wow!”. You nearly fainted laughing at the mix of shock, surprise, and mock anger in Joshua’s expression when he saw you at your window, giggling to yourself.

He got his revenge on you soon enough, though. He did the exact same, except that he revealed that he wrote something in one of them. You couldn’t stand the suspense, so you spent an hour unfolding every plane, and in the end, it was just a ‘hola muchacho’ that was written in one of them.

You literally marched to Joshua’s doorstep and tackled him to the ground.

But there was this really sweet side to him too, which sometimes made you question how someone could be this balanced in nature.

You would wake up every day to Joshua playing his brown, ordinary guitar at about 10am in the morning, its soft, acoustic tunes lulling you awake, and sometimes even helping you to fall asleep at night when you can’t. You’ve never slept so well before, you’d dare say. His mellow, soothing voice that rarely accompanied his guitar-playing was indisputably music to your ears. You loved how he stayed so lowkey about it. Once you woke up, sitting up on your bed with your messy, disheveled hair and half-open eyes, you’d, more often than not, hear Joshua chuckle at your unkempt appearance, then greet you with a gentle “Good morning, sleepyhead”.

But of course, there were times when you’d just drop back onto your bed and close your eyes, and that would be when Joshua would start strumming his guitar noisily, one of the only times when you’d say that the guitar playing sounded horrible.

“C’mon, wake up! We’re supposed to go out today!” you’d hear him say, resulting in a tired groan for you because you’re just that lazy.

“Can we postpone it?” you asked hoarsely, your morning voice still apparent.

“Nope.”

“Hmm.” You were already drifting back to dreamland.

When Joshua becomes helpless, he’d make the effort to go downstairs, walk over to your house, unlock your door since he has the spare key, come upstairs into your room, and then sit by your bed, annoying you in the most gentle way possible (it doesn’t even seem possible but Joshua does it) until you get up.

But there was this once when you overslept into the afternoon. You got confused when you woke up and the clock on your desk showed 12:13pm, and after coming to your senses you stood up, going to your window and looking over at Joshua’s. To your surprise, his windows were closed and his curtains were drawn.

“Hey, Joshua!” you whisper-shouted, sleep still lining your voice. No replies.

You started getting worried. His window hadn’t been open since yesterday night, and you had merely thought that he was staying out with his friends till late, but he wasn’t one to sleep in until the afternoon.

The uneasy feeling in you was eating you up. You quickly washed up and changed out of your pajamas, before going downstairs and hurriedly walking over to his house. You noticed newspapers from the past 2 days peeking out from his mailbox and grabbed those. After getting no response from knocking on his door a couple of times, you unlocked it with the key you had, before placing the newspapers on his countertop and rushing upstairs, your heart beating slightly faster than it should.

You pushed down the handle of his room door, carefully pushing the door open. His room was dim, almost dark, minimal sunlight peeking in through the tiny gaps of the maroon-colored curtains. Joshua was lying on the bed, on his side, his blankets pulled up to his waist. You couldn’t help but stare. His features were much softer when he was asleep, the lines that usually creased the corner of his eyes and eyebrows replaced by a youthful, dove-like appearance. His chest slowly rose and fell in sync with his shallow breaths, serenity plastering itself across his face.

You closed the door behind you and soundlessly walked over to him, gently placing your palm on his forehead. Nope, he wasn’t having a fever. Your eyes caught sight of a few prescribed pills on his nightstand, and you realized that he was having a cold.

Joshua suddenly stirred in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open. There was blankness in his eyes for a moment as he slowly took in his surroundings and the fact that you were in his room. He hummed softly, his voice sounding scratchy, and he slowly sits up.

“Y/N?” he slurred. His hair was standing up in all directions, making you chuckle and attempt to flatten them. “Why’re you here?”

“Because you have some explaining to do,” you said in mock annoyance, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

Joshua smiled, although he still didn’t seem fully awake. “It’s just a cold.”

He had zero idea that you had overslept because he didn’t play his guitar.

“That’s still being sick.”

Joshua hummed again, nodding in resignation. “Yes, yes, you grandma.”

You brazenly cupped Joshua’s face with your hands, scrutinizing him. “You look dreadful.”

“Do I?” he murmured, looking around for a mirror.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter because you’re too good looking when you aren’t sick,” you pointed out, snickering.

Joshua chuckled, his eyes forming the mini crescents that you loved. “Why, thank you.”

You chuckled too.

“Have you taken your meds?” you asked, and Joshua nods, a little unsurely.

“Yeah, just. I think.”

“Good. Now go back to sleep,” you said, your hands intuitively and gently pressing down Joshua’s messy hair. “This is the only time I won’t be disturbing you,” you told him impudently.

Joshua smiled, lying back down, but his hand was holding onto your wrist. “Are you going back?”

You shrugged. “I’ll probably keep you awake if I stay,” you said, chuckling. “You know how noisy I can be.”

Joshua shook his head. “That’s fine. You keep me awake all the time anyway.”

You laughed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think about you a lot.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at the unanticipated answer that you received as you looked away from him, heat blossoming in your cheeks. “I think your medicine has some weird side-effects.”

Joshua chuckled. “No, it doesn’t. I’m telling you the truth.”

You were so embarrassed you wanted to bury your face in something, anything.

“I like you, Y/N. I really do. I’ve liked you ever since you started flying your little airplanes into my room. I love your laughter, how your head kinda hangs back when you laugh really hard. You’re just so…” Joshua trailed off, and his gaze softened, his eyes practically twinkling, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. “So beautiful.”

You tried to bite in the wide smile that was forming on your lips, burying your face in your hands, your back facing him. “Joshua, you know I can’t handle these kinds of things,” you mumbled. His laughter rings in your ears.

Your heart was palpitating so fast against your chest, you could literally feel the thumps on your ribcage. You liked him too, you liked him so much you would space out and think about him at random times, and then start smiling to yourself. You loved how he was so playful but so kind at heart. Even your mother liked his personality --- she herself had been trying to push you to him everytime she comes over.

“That’s fine. I’ll make it easier,” he said. “Do you like me back? You just have to say yes or no.”

“You ass,” you said, your cheeks sore from smiling. “I can’t not like you even if I wanted to.”

Joshua beamed in content, before pulling you lightly towards him. You ended up lying right beside him, his face intimately close to yours. Even being this near to him, you couldn’t seem to find any flaw in his features. His eyes practically held the galaxy in them, his lips pinkish and slightly chapped, his skin having the tiniest of bumps on the corners of his nose. Even that seemed cute. Joshua chuckles softly after noticing how your eyes weren’t looking at his.

“You’re adorable.”

He lightly presses his lips to yours, the lips you’ve been dreaming about. It was as soft as you have expected it to be. A rosy hue played on both of your cheeks after he pulled away.

“You’re sick, Joshua,” your reminded — but not that you really cared about that anyway.

“Oh. Right. My bad,” he muttered, his thumb caressing your lips gently. “I think I’m better already anyway.”

The both of you started going over to each other’s houses more often than you should, so much so that it was almost possible to just sell the house you had and live with Joshua.

Joshua started cooking quite a lot for you, even though he wasn’t the best chef. You always laughed to yourself when you saw him in the kitchen with an apron, commenting on how motherly he looked. He would proceed to strike a few poses sometimes, and when you whip your phone out of your pocket, he’d immediately return to the stove and act aloof. He mentioned about spotting the empty cup of noodles the first time he came into your house (aka when he helped you with the boxes), and nagged about how unhealthy it was for your body. He was so caring; he’d always check on you over the smallest matters, like if you got to work safely when he can’t send you himself, and even making sure you don’t give in to your cravings and feed yourself ice-cold drinks when you’re on your period because he knew you’d have horrible cramps if you do.

“Just a sip, Joshua!” you argued, reaching for the can of cola as he tiptoed, raising it up and away from you, shaking his head persistently.

“You’re gonna be rolling in bed and sobbing at night, so no,” Joshua said, putting the can to his mouth and drinking it himself. You pouted, and he couldn’t help but titter, abruptly placing his lips on top of yours for a moment. You could taste the negligible amount of the drink from his lips, the slight fizziness bubbling on your tongue.

“There,” he teased after pulling away. “That’s a sip for you.”

You tried cooking breakfast for him once too, and he actually woke up because of the smell that wafted through the air in the house. You didn’t even hear him coming downstairs, so you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt his hands snake around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as you felt his breath on your neck.

“You’re not supposed to be up so early!” you exclaimed, and he chuckled.

“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a quick peck on your cheek before peeling himself away from you.

“Try not to burn anything, babe,” he joked.

“It’s just eggs, Shua,” you told him pointedly, pretending to be offended. He laughed.

“I know. But thanks. Love you.”

You snickered. “Well that was random, but love you too.”

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