Careyâs words had successfully put that annoying little voice in the back of Ariaâs mind to rest. Though there was little chance that sheâd ever swallow her pride and admit it, she had very much been yearning for some type of reassurance. But now, after listening to Carey, she was certain that sheâd made the right decision in breaking up with Scott. This was what she wanted. More specifically: Carey was what she wanted. And he wanted her, too â a notion that drove her dizzy with glee. âYouâre here waiting, huh?â She smirked, eyebrow quirking upwards. âLike â here, here? Like, youâre just gonna chill on my couch and wait?â She laughed, finding herself far funnier than she actually was. âI mean⊠thatâs sweet and all, but I donât know if my roommate would be very happy. Or Phil. He likes to sleep here.â
Aria grinned over at him in between bites of her food, watching as he chewed ravenously on his burger. âDeal.â She washed down the bite she had taken with a gulp of her chocolate milkshake. âBut if you seriously feel like you might puke, please turn the other way. These are my good sweatpants. More specifically, theyâre my hot date sweatpants. I only break âem out on special occasions. I just⊠I canât risk getting your puke on âem,â she teased, offering him a quizzical look before digging into her food once more.
She scarfed down her burger at rapid speed â all of the drama made her work up quite the appetite, evidently. Aria wasnât sure how long it was until they were done with their meal, but it couldnât have been long. Then again, time seemed to fly by whenever she was with Carey. Their meal, however long it was, was spent talking and laughing about anything and everything that popped into their minds. Whether it was embarrassing auditions or updates on Careyâs band or that pretentious restaurant that just opened up a few blocks down, Aria was entirely sucked into the conversation. She was so engaged, in fact, that she only noticed that sheâd finished her food when she grabbed the last fry from what was once a mountain of fries.
She let out a satisfied sigh, stomach suddenly feeling tight and slightly uncomfortable. âI ate everything. That was perfect.â Aria leaned back to rest her head against the couch behind her as to take a breather from her eating marathon. âThanks for bringinâ me food. And not judging me for stuffing my face with greasy fries. Or for wearing sweatpants. And being sweet to me in general. Youâre my favorite.â She smiled over at him, eyes looking over his face for a few moments whilst she looked at him fondly. With little warning, she leaned into him to press a fleeting kiss to his cheek before standing up from the couch and grabbing the empty containers and trash that was now on the coffee table.
After throwing out the remnants of their feast, Aria returned to the living room, plopping back down onto the couch and tucking her legs under her. âSoâŠ.â She spoke after a long pause, one of her hands fiddling with a lose thread sticking out of the couch cushion. Having him here â next to her, and in her apartment â and being at liberty to feel a certain way about him now that sheâd officially cut off the ball and chain, was a little bit surreal. Her heart was, once again, doing that strange thing in her chest as warmth settled into every nook and cranny of her body. How was it that he could make her bashful without even doing anything? Aria wondered if he was aware of the power that he had over her. â â âWanna watch a movie, or somethinâ?â She finally asked, a bit awkwardly, before biting down her lip and offering him an inquisitive look.
âOh, yeah. Iâm not leaving. Did I forget to mention that part?â Carey grinned, watching her laugh at her own joke. It was stupidly endearing, and he just liked seeing the smile on her face, especially knowing that sheâd been crying not even two hours ago. Seeing her face light up like that was like a little jolt of energy, a little bit of fuel to keep him going. If he could just keep making her laugh and smile... Heâd be set for life. âWhere is Phil, anyway? I havenât actually seen him. Iâm beginning to think he doesnât actually exist...âÂ
Carey laughed around a mouthful of fries when she said that those were her hot date sweatpants, and that he was not to get puke on them. This was what he wanted in a relationship. This was what relationships were supposed to be. Making each other laugh, hanging out in sweatpants, seeing each other in the best and worst moments... Romance wasnât supposed to be cut and dry, or whatever manipulative bullshit Lindsey had pushed on him. It was supposed to be like this. Being with someone who he thought was ridiculously beautiful, inside and out, even when she had sweatpants on and had very obviously been crying recently. Even when she had a huge mouthful of cheeseburger. No matter what. Someone who he enjoyed being with, all the time. Who he wanted to see every single minute of every day.
He wanted her now, more than ever. And it was trippy to think that she wanted him, too. The conversation was so stupidly easy, so free flowing that he felt like he could have kept talking for hours, for days, months, years, even. He wanted to tell her everything about himself. He wanted to tell her all of his hopes and dreams, all of his regrets, his mistakes, his fears. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her. Right down to her favorite scent, her favorite moment of the day, her weirdest dream or nightmare... The meal was over in what felt like a blink of an eye. Suddenly he was reaching for another chip, only to realize there were none left. His milkshake was gone, all that was left of his burger was a few crumbs.Â
âThat was fucking awesome.â He agreed, letting out a sigh and mirroring her leant-back, relaxed posture. âOh, no, itâs nothing. I kind of think I owed it to you. I did kind of fuck up your night after all. I mean. Not me, but, like. A result of me. Yâknow? Iâve fucked up a lot of peopleâs lives, huh? Iâve thought about that recently. That... I dunno. That maybe I didnât act in a great way. I mean, I took all those girls out for dinner, I fucked them, and then... When they called me I didnât even give them the time of day. I just. I donât know why I thought that was okay. It was fucked up, yâknow? I guess... I guess what Iâm saying is Iâm not perfect, yâknow? I donât want you to think I am. Iâm trying. Iâm trying to be a good guy, because you deserve that. But Iâm gonna fuck up. Iâm bound to. I mean, Iâm a dick. I donât want to be, but I am, sometimes. Iâm happy to be your favorite, but... Keep your expectations low, yeah?â He smiled wryly, his mouth going a little dry when she kissed his cheek.Â
He watched her walk away with the trash, still deep in thought for a moment, before shaking his head. He didnât need to dwell on things heâd done in the past. There was no point crying over spilt milk, right? When she came back, he smiled at her, just watching in silence as she flopped down onto the couch, resisting the urge to immediately shuffle up close to her. He wanted to give her space. What she said, though, took him completely off guard.Â
âAre you asking me to Netflix and chill with you right now?â He laughed uproariously, shaking his head a little. âI mean, yes, I would love to. God, youâre so fucking cute.â He moved over to her, unable to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her on the lips, just a soft, quick, open mouthed one. âYes. Iâll watch a movie, or somethinâ.â
