Mike lounged on the couch, laughter escaping his lips as he watched you frantically search the apartment. "What are you looking for?" he asked, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips.
"Cookies," you replied without even glancing at him, continuing to rummage through the cabinets. After still not finding anything you whine "Mike," your voice full of desperation as you collapse on top of him. "I need cookies," your voice comes out muffled against his chest.
He chuckled, giving you a small head pat before gently pushing you off. Now sprawled on the couch, you watched him closely as he headed to the kitchen. He tried to contain his laughter as he lifted a magazine, revealing the bright blue package. His laughter grew louder as he handed it over. You snatched the package from him, a pout forming on your face. "If your apartment wasn't so messy, I would have found them."
"My apartment, really?" he retorted. You nodded, mouth full of cookies. "Well, if that's how you feel, then give me my cookies." He reached for the box, but you moved away.
"I'll bite you if you try to grab my cookies."
He laughed again. "I shared my weed with you, but you won't share the cookies?" You huffed, moving across the couch with a cookie in hand.
"Open," you demanded, placing the cookie in his mouth before letting your head fall into his lap. You closed your eyes as he ran his fingers through your hair.
"I love you," you murmured, opening your eyes to look up at him. He smiled down at you, a grin spreading across his face.
"Are you talking to me or the cookies?" you giggled, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.
