M: Mirthful

—full of mirth; merry or amusing.

...

Silence swimmed through the tranquil hum of evening, finding its way through the once lively abode. The dim light of dusk danced on the wooden floors, dripping past the flowing, pastel curtains. Night had swiftly creeped by, hours dwelling past in what seemed like mere seconds. It was already twelve o' clock in the morning; everyone had gradually succumbed to their exhaustion, sleeping in their assigned positions.

Well, almost everyone.

The "Good Hair Crew" and Jonah had a sleepover at Andi's house. They were lost in a game of Monopoly, attempting to pull an all-nighter competition. Of course, Buffy had prompted this idea, yet unfortunately failed, due to fatigue. She recently had a track meet and had been drained from it, but incessantly denied the notion. Andi, well, she's so accustomed to her curfew of 10:00 p.m.—even with Bex as her mom, Cece still somehow dictated when she had to go to sleep—and passed out shortly after the given time. Yet, Cyrus and Jonah were still up, vying for bragging rights.

"Sixteen rounds of Empire and I still haven't beaten you...how?"

The raven haired boy simply shrugs, shuffling the Chance cards. He places them down in their proper place, and glanced up at the brunet who was colored with curiosity. Stifling a chuckle, he feigned nonchalance, "You can blame my flourishing relationship with strategy. Oh, and if you haven't noticed my subtle sips of caffeine every few minutes that have boosted my energy, well...yeah."

Jonah found himself laughing, his weariness consuming him more every second. Drunk with exhaustion, he breathlessly sighs, "It's cute when you're confident." Cyrus could feel the heat growing in his cheeks. By now they must be beyond an attractive rosiness. Dissolving to puffs of pink, he shivered slightly under his mask of deemed confidence.

"Um, th-thank you...?" Veiled with hesistance, he thought over the countless results, illustrating each scenario he could imagine. It was a simple question—stupid, even, to think that anything would happen with a mumble constructed of hopeless optimism. Without another interlude of thought, he stammered with the words he could muster, "D-did you just say that I was...cute?"

Pursing his lips, he narrowed his eyes, feigning concentration. Nodding his head, he slowly led his gaze towards the other boy, blushing with a newfound interest. He chuckled, "Yes. Yes, I called you cute." Cyrus was only led further with confusion, fumbling with this foreign thought, sitting dumbfounded for the first time that night.

"You know, don't you?"

His doe eyes shot up, swirling with a blooming, chestnut hope. The brunet was staring at him with a smile playing on his lips, each cheek decorated with a thin dimple. Jonah stared at him with a different, yet similar look all the same. It was as if the spark that danced in his eyes was accompanied by a new kind of glimmer—one that seemed more hopeful.

"I-I, um—I don't...understand?"

With a few seconds of heartbreak and optimism all at once, he sighed, "I like you, Cyrus. More than I'm supposed to and I think—no, I kn-know that I always will."

"I-I like you, too, Jonah..."

A few giggles rose in the background, immediately snapping Cyrus out of whatever trance he was in.

"YES! FINALLY!"

He rolled his eyes at the sound of Buffy's voice and Andi's snickers. He turned back to Jonah and drowned in the sea he always found himself lost in, beaming amidst the dark of the night, lighting up every inch of the house.