There.

Popcorn, a combination of action movies and chick flicks, a heap of junk food, and a beautiful girl curled up next to me under a shared blanket. Now this was the life. So simple, so lazy and yet so fulfilling. I couldn't really understand what it was exactly about Miley that changed these average things and made them so much better, but I'm glad she was here with her magic touch.

I never pictured myself actually enjoying living with another person. I mean, I could only put up with Sarah for one night and then I sent her home to extend on her plan to save the world from global warming's clutches alone. I did care about the world, but just not enough to dedicate my life to it. And, now that I think about it, I hate that with Miley around, I hardly miss Sarah at all. She is a great friend, but our interests differ so outrageously and she's always so overbearing. I couldn't take her anywhere without her throwing her petitions in people's faces or asking them to kindly stop destroying the ozone layer with their hair products. There's always a helpless animal or person to save and I'm usually the one she drags around to assist in her heroic acts.

Actually, Sarah was on one of her little adventures to better the world right now. She left me for a month to travel around with her hippie friends to help the less fortunate across the country and protest against anything that was a danger to nature along the way. I was invited, but was quick to turn her down. Being surrounded by tree huggers for more than four weeks wasn't my idea of a road trip. So, I watched Sarah go without a second thought and realised after the first week that I was bored out of my mind, lonely and in need of human contact. I was a wreck without Sarah around and I knew there was one alternative I could resort to. Visiting my mother.

She always got so excited whenever I dropped by and would go out of her way to make me dinner, which was saying something because she depended on her maids to make her meals mostly. I never mentioned how bad the food tasted because her eager smile and bright eyes always distracted me from the coal sliding down my throat and when I forced a satisfied grin, I thanked her for the wonderful meal. It was the least I could do for her. She was a kind-hearted woman and very fair to everyone, but pushing her buttons too often would result in a rather nasty bite mark on your ass cheek.

I played my part and drew out my stay at her too huge mansion with her loser boyfriend for as long as I could, but she was busy and I hated the pressure she threw on me when she couldn't make a decision. She'd lose it if I made one wrong move and like always, when the going got tough, I packed my shit up and got going! It was like any other visit, really, but somehow, I ended up arriving home with a new housemate who just so happened to be washed up pop star. A very gracious washed up pop star.

I faced Miley and studied her glazed eyes. Sugar highs only got a person so far and we had worked well into the A.M. I tiredly climbed out of the blanket that had been wrapped around Miley and I, planning to retire for the night, but warm fingers grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into my previous position. I gave Miley a confused glance, but she pouted and wove her thin arms around me.

"It's too cosy for you to leave. Please stay until the movie ends?"

Unsurprisingly, I settled into Miley's arms without protest and closed my eyes tiredly. The gentle strokes of her fingers through the tips of my hair and the feel of her heart thrumming against my cheek was the last things I felt before I shut down.

I woke up to a world containing ticklish annoyances and a lack of oxygen. The atmosphere was incredibly humid, I felt heavy, and breathing was an effort in itself. Not comprehending why all my functions were limited, I crossly opened my eyes and found Miley completely on top of me. It was her hair splashed across my neck that was causing the almost itchy sensations to skitter across my skin. Her mouth was close to my ear, I could feel and hear her hot exhales. She was lying on her stomach and didn't seem to care that she was smothering me with her entire self and I wouldn't have minded either if she weren't suppressing my breathing and making me sweat so profusely. Though her body was anything but light, I still noticed how soft the feel of her was. It was just like having layers upon layers of blankets wrapped around me, moulding to my form.

I put aside the desire to adjust Miley so I could cuddle with her for about... the rest of my life, and started to wiggle out from under her as gently as I could manage. Moments before my escape, Miley's limbs tensed around me and she grumbled her objection in my ear. I rolled my eyes at her unconscious persuasion and turned us onto our sides, deciding that maybe a few more minutes, or hours, in her arms wouldn't hurt.

My pencil soared across the page, but I wasn't focusing on what I was drawing at all. It was like... I was so involved in it that I couldn't clearly see what I was doing. I was just doing it almost blindly. That doesn't make sense, I know, but the curves, lines and shades my lead created and the mechanic movements of my hand were all that needed to be understood. They were controlled by my heart more so than my mind and everything was pouring out so forcefully that I was scared my strokes would cut through the paper and ruin my hours of work.

I softened the pressure I was putting on my pencil and transferred to tender sketches, flicking my wrist carefully to make this precious production just right and utterly perfect. It had to be.

"Honey, I'm home," Miley sung as she bounced into the house with a playful smile directed at me. I turned back to my picture and my breath choked me as it caught in my throat. What the hell? "Lilly?" I slammed my book shut and hid it under the sofa cushions.

"Y-yeah?"

"Aren't you gonna say it?" she questioned, stripping out of her jacket and tossing it over the rack next to the front door.

"Say what?"

"'Welcome home, sweetheart'. Jeez, you can't even play along," she grumbled, throwing herself down next to me and I would have responded if not for the sudden sweet smell of donuts and... frosting invading my nose. I felt saliva building up and swallowed it along with a craving I'd never had before.

"Sorry, maybe I'll remember next time, but uh... what did you do at work today?"

"Oh! I had to frost a heap of cakes and everything. It was pretty fun and I may have stolen a taste every now and again," she said, chuckling lightly and that's when I noticed the plastic bag in her hand. I reached for it, but Miley intervened and slapped my hand away. "Uh, uh, not yet. These are for later. You're not allowed to spoil your dinner," she affirmed.

"You're worse than my mother," I muttered, shaking my head to clear the mist Miley's smell mingled with sugar brought forth.

"And yet you love me just as much," she teased.

I snuck my hand under the cushions and my fingers grazed against my book frightfully. Frightfully because I knew she was right and my most recent drawing held the proof.

Sorry it's so short. Also, sorry it's been so long.