Dylan
The sun is casting its perfect, morning warmth into Hazel's room.
Andrew flips to his side. He’s still shirtless from last night. The sheets are pulled around his hips and I can see the outline of his body beneath.
I look away quickly.
I don’t know what’s happening. For some reason, I want to look- but this is Andrew we’re talking about.Andrew!My best friend. I don’t care about his perfect six-pack, or his handsome pecs.
He’s waking up and bringing Hazel along with him. Their breathing is even and steady, like they’re asleep, but their eyes flutter open. No one is saying a thing.
This is tense.
I hate it.
I steal a glance at Andrew. He’s avoiding me more than I’m avoiding him.
“I’ll make some coffee.”
Hazel's voice is tired and groggy, but she’s still got a bounce to her that I rarely find in people who aren’t flight attendants.
Hazel gets up, puts on some light clothes and heads to the kitchen. I don’t want to be alone in bed with Andrew. I hardly know what to feel, let alonesayto him, after last night, so I grab my shirt and underwear off the floor and follow the scent of a fresh brew like it’ll solve all my problems.
Hazel set’s down three coffee mugs. They’re all mismatching, unlike my place, where all the dishware is minimal and sleek, bought all at once with no thought to them other than,‘Do they match?’
Hers are cute and sentimental. They look like they were collected over time. I’m sure each one has a little memory to go with it.
Paris. My mug is black with a little gold Eiffel Tower on the front.
Andrew pulls out a chair at the breakfast bar with an awkward screech. My heart thumps hard. I can feel his tension, without even looking at him.
Why is my heart beating so hard? Why does he seem so pissed off? I can see his hands, out of the corner of my eye, pull his cup toward himself. I’ve never really noticed those hands.
Hazel pours our coffee and sits between us as we sip in silence. She makes great coffee, it’s not too rich but also not too dull. Sadly, it’s hard to enjoy under the tricky tension. I can’t think of anything to say, I’m too focused on getting my thoughts off of how good last night felt.
I can’t help thinking of Andrew’s lips and his sandy jaw brushing against mine. It’s unfair how good he smells in the morning.
“I’ve got to go.”
Andrew clears his throat, after excusing himself and kissing the top of Hazel's gorgeous blonde hair. I didn’t notice that he’s already wearing his clothes from last night. Before I even have time to avert my eyes, he’s gone without another word.
“I should probably head out too.”
It feels weird to have my clothes on from yesterday. It only makes me think of everything that happened last night, which I’m desperately trying not to think about at the moment.
“Hey, Dylan?”
Hazel’s brow is scrunched in the cutest, most curious way.
My hand is resting on her doorknob and I’m about to leave.
“Yeah?”
“Is everything okay?”
I don’t know why I’m smiling.
“I’ll let you know when I find out.”