Two taps, one thump. The knock pattern you haven't heard in much too long. Your secret pass-code with your roommate, Matt, so that you knew it was him asking to come into your room and not Alfred, his brother and roommate. When Al whispers shyly, they do sound a bit alike, and many a times has Alfred has gained entry to your room by pretending to be Matt. So you devised a code to protect the glass and other fragile things in your room from Alfred's all too careless hands.
It's been two weeks since Matt left for Canada, and he's not due back for two more. You sigh, as you run your hand through your (h/c) hair. It's lonely here, even with Alfred running around and being generally obnoxious. However, you haven't heard anything break in a day or two, which is good news.
"It's not like he's dead or anything, he's just in Canada," you mutter to yourself, lazily swinging your feet in the air and scrolling through your favorite social media site. Your screen is filled with drama. Friends fighting, family fighting, strangers fighting friends or family, and a couple reposted pictures with big, Gothic looking font 'REPOST IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, KEEP SCROLLING IF YOU WANT A LITTLE GIRL TO KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP'. Well, screw this. Your room is cold, people are annoying, and you haven't left this spot other than to go to the bathroom in about three days. It's about time to socialize, or at least that's what you tell yourself as you sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing.
As you pad into the living room, you see a not-so-energetic looking Alfred slouched on the love seat, watching the news. The news? Oh god, either something big happened in the news or Alfred's lacking McDonald's. You walk over quietly, and sit next to Alfred, giving him a worried look. The news was showing a story about some pet show.
"Oh, hey (name)," he mumbles, not looking at you. "Nice to see you up and about." You just stare. There's seriously something wrong here. Alfred's never like this! He's almost...depressed?
"Al, is something wrong?" you question quietly. "You aren't your usual chipper self today." He looks up at you, sighing.
"Lack of McNuggets and cheeseburgers," he muttered. "Really takes a toll on a man." You nod, but continue staring. There are empty Coke bottles littering the floor along with the whole kitchen's supply of microwave popcorn. It looks like he hasn't eaten any McDonald's in at least 24 hours.
"Are you sure?" you ask. He could have gone out and bought McDonald's whenever he wanted. It's not like Arthur has tried to put him on a diet again. "I left dinner money on the fridge you know. It's my turn to pay for fast food."
"(Name)," Alfred starts, turning to face you. "I miss Matt." You lean your head against the back of the love seat, sighing. You seem to be doing that a lot lately.
"Yeah, me too, Al." You reply. Alfred suddenly stands up, pacing and running his hands through his sandy blonde hair in frustration, as if he had never felt lonely in his entire life.
"I just, I didn't think a guy so quiet could leave such a...a hole when he leaves! Have you felt it? The whole place is silent! And it will be for another two weeks." He laughs bitterly. "You know, I'm kind of really an asshole, aren't I? I never even notice him, even when he's talking to me and now when he's gone, I notice him? How is that supposed to make sense?"
"Al," you start, looking up at him in surprise and sadness. "You're not an asshole. He really is quiet! And you're so used to loud of course you wouldn't notice him."
"But you do, (name)! You never forget he's there, or forget you brought him to a party, or forget him at all! You always remember him." You flush red. Well, of course you couldn't forget him. Your roommate, Matthew Williams, who smelled of pine and maple syrup and constantly wore a red sweatshirt with a maple leaf on the back. Whose eyes sparkle blue when he's excited and flush lavender when he's embarrassed. Matt, who has been the subject of your affection for quite some time now, though you would never admit it.
"I-I have my reasons to notice him. But that's not the point! The point is that you aren't an asshole for forgetting him on occasion. And-" He cut you off, staring blankly at you. All frustration suddenly gone, replaced with a look of sudden clarity, like he had just realized something that should have been obvious.
"You like him, don't you?" he said, the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips. You blush darker, crossing your arms across your chest as if you could hold your secrets in.
"What? N-No! Of course I don't!" you immediately defend. He full out grins his usual cocky grin. It seems all he needed was someone to pick on like he picks on Matt. Well, at least it makes him happy, even if your cheeks are on fire.
"You totally do!" he hoots. "Damn, if he had reception and internet in that stupid cabin, I would text him in a heartbeat!" You glare. This was no longer a game. Your whole friendship with Matt was on the line now. I mean, yes, there's a slim chance he likes you back but all he ever talks about is some girl he met at the coffee shop you work at. It drives you up a wall, but you smile and nod when he brings her up.
"You...wouldn't...dare," you growl. He takes a step back, hands in the air like he got arrested.
"Alright, alright! Secret's safe with me, (name)!" he says, smiling as his eyes flick behind you for a moment before locking with your eyes again. "If you admit you like him." You sigh, flipping your hair out of your face and throwing your hands in the air in frustration.
"Fine! I like Matthew, okay?" you yell. He smiles even brighter as he motions to look behind me.
No.
No this isn't happening.
He wasn't supposed to be back for another two weeks.
That maple scented ass.
His wavy blonde hair, the same shade as his brother's covered most of his face, which was flushing redder than yours. That's really saying something.
"I...uh...got up to the cabin but there was a raccoon problem, so I came back early," he stuttered shyly. "I happened to overhear some...stuff and I was wondering if you-(Name), come back!" He shouted after you as you suddenly bolted for the stairs, up to your room and slammed the door. You hear his frantic footsteps trailing behind, up the stairs, into the hall. They stop.
Tap tap thump.
Very quietly, you hear the code. He's nervous.
Tap tap thump.
Louder this time. "(Name)? Please, open up!"
TAP TAP THUMP.
He's almost pounding on your door now. "(Name), please!" he pleads, sounding almost desperate.
"Come in..." you mutter into your stuffed polar bear, the one he gave you. You bury your burning face in it's soft white fur as he walks in, quietly shutting the door behind him. He sits down next to you and puts a comforting hand on your back.
"(Name)," he says, softly and tenderly. "Look at me." You peek up, and notice his eyes were a solid violet. You had never seen his eyes go violet before. "You know the girl I met at the cafe?" You nod, burying your face in the bear again. "I never told you the full story. I went with Alfred to get coffee one morning, and he insisted we go inside. He said there was this gorgeous barista that worked the morning shift. But gorgeous wasn't the right word. It wasn't enough. No words could have prepared me for how utterly and completely beautiful she looked. She was perfect. She asked my name to put on my coffee, and I told her, albeit a little shy, and-" You look up. This is familiar. You know what happens next. "-she writes it in this big, loopy handwriting. She spells it right, even! And right next to my name is a little heart. I look at her name tag. Can you guess her name?" You nod, and open your mouth to speak but you can't find the words. "It was (name)."
The hand that was on your back wraps around your waist as his other hand pushes a (h/c) lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers trace down your jaw until they rest just under your chin. He tilts your face up and leans in until your noses brush and you can feel his breath. "I knew from that day on, one day, some how, some way, I was going to make that girl my girlfriend," he muttered, and in the closeness of the moment, those words couldn't feel more intimate. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck. "What do you say?" You can't help it. You lean in, and at first it was soft. Your lips brush and he's kissing you. His hand cradles your back as he dips you lower, but never letting your back hit the mattress. His other hand supports your head, his fingers interwoven with his hair.
You feel his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking for entrance and you all too happily oblige, and the feeling of his tongue is enough to send shivers down your spine. He tastes like maple syrup and you never thought you would ever want to taste it on anything but pancakes but it tastes even better on Matthew's lips. He pulls away first, out of breath.
"I say yes." you smile as you pull and all too willing Matthew in for a round two.