this was made 4823453 days ago but here it is yaaayya

"I don't know how we're just gonna keep living like this." I groan. "We both know that no one's gonna open that door and buy one of these rusty, old junk we sell."

"It's called antiques." Zander chuckles, putting an arm around me. "You're such a downer. Stop worrying."

"How?" I fuss. "How will we live without any money? How wi—?"

"Shhhh." He puts a finger to my lips. "You have to calm down, Stevie."

I glare at him, then start slapping his arm. "How?!"

"Stevie! Stevie, stop it!" He says, between laughter.

I don't. I keep screaming and punching him. I just really want to scream and let it out now.

He finally gets hold of my arms and pulls me closer to his body, hugging me tightly. "You need to relax." He whispers into my ear. "Wait." He lets go and walks to the back of the store. I try to catch my breathe, try to organize my mind.

I hear a familiar sound of an instrument. I turn back, seeing Stevie with his old ukulele. There's a twinkle in his eyes to holding his signature instrument. I find myself smiling.

Don't you worry there my honey. We might not have any money.

He takes a step closer to me. The sound of his voice relaxes me, sending me into that state of youth.

But we've got our love to pay the bills.

He holds my hand and twirls me around. I giggle, memories of us in highschool flashing through my mind.

Maybe I think you're cute and funny

He steals a kiss on my cheek and goes back to strumming his ukulele. He looks so young, happier than the last I've seen him. The last time he sang to me like this was about a year ago.

Maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you.

He winks and I fake a gasp. I laugh, treasuring every moment of this.

Oh, let's get rich and buy our parent's home in the South of France.

I join in with him, our voices childish and sweet together.

Let's get rich and build a house on a mountain, making everybody look like ants from way up there.

He holds me close to his chest and our eyes meet. I could see the perfect chocolate brown of his irises and the crinkles on the side of his eyes.

You and I, you and I, you and I.

He holds both my hands and gives me a kiss.

"It's gonna be okay." He says, looking into my eyes.

I lay my forehead against his. "Thank you." I whisper.

As he kisses my forehead, the bell to our door rings and I see a sophisticated-looking woman with a young girl by her side.

"Excuse me. How much is that?"

But we've got our love to pay the bills