Bet you never thought you would see this day haha. Like, vote, comment. (Be nice) but still tell me if it sucks pls (:

(above is the pic of her dress for the party)

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Nova

I hate the feeling of forgetting something... especially when you wake up with the feeling. As I go through my morning, I try to recall the big things I have going on today. I think it's just my nerves acting up because It's a pretty big day.

It's Roma's surprise party and I'm decorating and picking up a few snacks. I think about everything that needs to get picked up as I strip off my clothes from last night that I got too lazy to fully take off before getting in bed. I even text Violet and Tony to remind them of what they need to do.

A huge problem for me is how unorganized my personal life is. It's why I hate feeling like I'm forgetting something because there's a 90% chance that I am forgetting something... and it's probably a huge thing.

When I step out of the shower, I realize it's most likely my overthinking. Sighing, I quickly throw on some underwear and a baggy shirt before I go into my kitchen to make something to eat.

Recently, I've been craving blueberries so I've just been buying a shit ton to stock up. I know it's gonna end really badly when I get tired of them and can't even stand looking at them but for now, I'm enjoying them.

Before I can even fully get the blueberries into my bowl, I hear 3 knocks on my door. I groan. It's too damn early to have to put up with my very annoying neighbors who think it's okay to ask me about every inconvenience they experience.

Rolling my eyes, I force a smile as I swing open my door and quickly feel my face and heart drop when I see the person on the other end. Realization suddenly floods me just as quickly as the heat goes up my bare legs and into my face. I pinch my eyes, close the door, and quickly run around my apartment trying to get it as clean as possible as fast as possible.

I swear someone should've given me one of those Olympic medals for speed-cleaning. I also grab the first pair of pants I see which are a pair of baggy shorts that are most definitely being put on backward as I try hopping to the door while also trying to slide them onto my legs. I take a deep breath before I open my door and pray that he's still there. 

I open the door with a weary smile, looking up at his unamused face. "I forgot you were gonna be here," I say sheepishly.

"You were the one who told me to be here," he says with narrow eyes. I don't miss that he lets his eyes trail up my legs and I feel my skin heat.

"Right," I nod, not giving further explanation.

"Are you gonna let me in or do you plan on closing the door again?" he questions with just a little bit of an attitude. "You can stare from inside too."

Ugh, rude. Who pissed in his cereal this morning. "I guess you can come in," I say, trying to joke but not sure that it comes out that way.

He walks in, taking a split second to look around before his eyes land back on me. Now that I can fully see him, I take notice that he's wearing blue jeans and a black sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his silver chain, and a few rings.

Realizing that I probably look like I actually took him up on the offer to stare at him inside, I decide to finally speak because that's what normal people do. "Do you want something to eat?"

By now, he's leaning his shoulder against the wall, looking at some of the pictures on the wall... specifically, one that Tony took of me laughing my ass off because Violet got too drunk and asked a random red-head for a picture because she thought he was Ed Sheeran. I look stupid in the photo bc my hair is all messed but I hung it up bc of how happy I look. He turns to look at me, almost like he's comparing the way I look now to the way I look in the picture. "I'm good," he says, and I nod.

I walk into my kitchen, knowing he's following behind me. I put some blueberries into a bowl and hop onto the counter holding the bowl out to him, watching him take a few. "I'm a little surprised you actually showed up to help me," I say, truthfully. Maybe it's rude and Theo's never been the kind to not stick to his word but I guess I just find it surprising because of how busy he always is. 

He frowns, "You didn't think I would?"

I shrug, "I don't know, you're always busy."

He bites the inside of his cheek, holding back a frown, "I promised you."

"I know," I say a little quieter. Clearing my throat, I say, "We have to go shopping for a few things."

"Okay," he says absentmindedly. He's playing with a snow globe from my counter that has a turkey holding a sign that says, "Let me out!"

He holds it up to me to explain and I grin, "I'm being festive."

"I can tell," he says sarcastically.

Suddenly, I get the best idea ever. I look at him with a grin and he raises a brow, looking very skeptical. "You know what?" I ask.

"Hmm?" He replies, still looking doubtful. Ugh, where is the trust?

"You should totally make your pasta for the party," I say.

"You want me to make pasta for your friend's birthday party?" he asks.

"Yup," I nod very enthusiastically. Before he can protest, I start talking again, "You make really good pasta and everyone will love it and then everyone will love you."

He looks like he's considering my words before saying, "Damn, that's a really strong argument," his tone is sarcastic but his eyes are amused and that's all that matters. "I might've agreed if you had asked nicer."

"I was pretty nice," I say, holding my ground.

"I think you could do better," he says, stepping close enough for me to have to lean back to make eye contact. His scent encloses me and my stomach tenses.

This motherfucker is making me beg him for pasta. Is it really worth it? Yes. I've only had his pasta once and it was life-changing.

"Please?" I sigh, giving in.

"Say it like you mean it," he says.

"Pretty please?" I ask with a smile.

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, saying, "I'll think about it," with one side of his lips quirked up.

"You're an ass," I mutter.

"Just for you, Scott," he says and I narrow my eyes, biting back any amusement.

"Look around to see what you need to get," I say, finishing my blueberries.

He nods, looking through my pantry and fridge for a good few minutes before turning to look at me with a very serious expression, "You need to never set foot in a kitchen ever again." 

"What?" I shrug, defensively. "I've been busy."

He takes a second to blink at me, before questioning how I've survived the last 22 years of my life. "How the fuck are you alive? What do you eat?" he asks.

"I don't know," I shrug. "I either eat out or I just eat whatever is there."

"Scott, that is the issue," he says, almost laughing. "There isn't anything here."

"That's not true, I have blueberries," I argue.

"I know that," he says. "I can very well see that you're the reason the state is running low on blueberries."

"Hey," I laugh, throwing one at him. "I have more food in the pantry, plus, I know for a fact that I have lettuce in there."

"What the fuck," he says, his shock growing. "You're telling me you live off of blueberries, lettuce, and mac & cheese?"

"And toast," I say like it makes things better.

"When was the last time you went grocery shopping?" he asks.

"A few weeks ago," I answer. "I've been busy with work and school."

"Nova," he groans. "That's not okay."

"Well clearly it doesn't even matter because now I have you to do it for me," I smile, catching his eye. "It's almost like the universe was waiting for this to happen!"

"Right, because the universe definitely kept you from buying food because it knew I'd do it for you," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Obviously," I shrug.

When he's done going through my things, he leans against the counter. I realize I should probably make a list of things to get so I start going through my drawers to find a pen. When I do, I look around for something to write on, not finding anything. Sighing, I look at him, "Give me your hand," I say.

He furrows his brow, extending a hand towards me. "For?" he asks. I don't answer, taking hold of it. His hand is warm, and the tips of his fingers are a little cold. It's way bigger than my hand and I almost want to lace my fingers through his just to see how it would look.

I start writing down everything we need to buy, I prolong this process because I love the weight of his heavy hand when it relaxes into mine. I can feel his eyes on me but I don't meet them. I just pray he can't read my mind and see how much I like having his hand in mine.

His fingers are slender, he has one of those veiny forearms that are very nice, and a small Ivy-vine tattoo on the side of his wrist. I smile when I see it.

When I ran out of room on his palm, I start writing on his forearm. I used to do this when we were younger because even if he washed off the ink, he'd still remember what I didn't. It's a little hard because of his fucking veins but you know, they're pretty. I make sure to draw things that are unrelated to the shopping list just for detail.

I also notice the faint little white scars lined up and my heart squeezes. You can learn so much from the smallest part of someone and you never know how far away they are from what's carved on their body.

Breaking me out of my trance, he tugs on a strand of my hair, forcing my eyes to his. "Is there a reason you can't do this somewhere else?" he asks, amused.

"I'd forget about it," I say, earning a nod from him like it makes complete sense. When I'm done, I squeeze his hand a little before saying, "Thanks."

"Mmhm," he hums, flicking my forehead as I turn around. I scoff playfully, pushing his hand away.

"You know," I say, randomly, "If we fought, I'd totally end up beating your ass."

He studies me a little before laughing and saying, "Your ego's too big for your own good."

"You can't say anything about my ego and It's true," I say, walking out of the kitchen. He follows me as we enter my bedroom.

Theo

Never did I think I'd be spending my Sunday mornings following Nova around. Honestly, I seem to be doing this too much. I need better hobbies. She's going on about how she could totally beat my ass and I'm just trying to not laugh.

I'm a whole head taller than her and she's not exactly muscular. She could most definitely fend for herself but she couldn't exactly beat anybody's ass either. I still nod as if her arguments make sense.

We walk into her room. it's small but not too small for her. I suppress a smile when I see it. If her apartment represented a part of her, her bedroom represented all of her. Her white framed bed with messy white sheets, plants everywhere (most likely fake), and a standing mirror with pictures stuck onto it; a few movie covers with hearts around some of the people along with a few pictures of her and her friends.

There's piles of books on the window sill, bedside tables, and corners of the room. There are also like 30 candles around the room and 5 of them are lit.

"You can sit down while I get ready," she says before stepping into her closet.

I get on the bed, messing with one of the many stuffed animals on it. She takes some time, occasionally talking to me about how she needs to donate more clothes. When she finally steps out, she has on a grey shirt that sits tight against her and she's holding a light blue crewneck in the other hand. She looks in the mirror, holding the blue one in front of her before turning towards me with a little frown. "Which one?" she asks.

She looks fine in both but I like the blue one a little more so I say, "Blue."

"Okay," she says, walking back into the closet. After a few seconds, she says "I feel like I should warn you about tonight," loud enough for me to hear through the closed door.

"What? Are your friends murderers or something?" I humor.

"No," she says a little defensively. "But they might be a little rude at first but I promise they're nice... just a little protective. I just don't want you to get the wrong impression," she says sheepishly as she comes out.

She's wearing the grey top with black pants that flare at the end. She looks at me from the mirror saying, "I think I like this one more."

I nod, smiling slightly at the fact that she always seems to go against my opinions, "Yeah me too." I watch as she goes back into the closet and comes back holding jewelry.

"But like I was saying," she continues. "I know they'll really like you and you'll really like them-" she continues talking, she looks nervous every time she meets my eyes through the mirror.

"It's just that they weren't your biggest fan for a bit, but you know, things got better," she's blabbering- a classic Nova thing to do when she feels the need to compensate for her feelings. She's also been trying to get on her necklace for the last two minutes so I get off her bed and stand behind her.

I brush her damp hair away from her neck, "If you like them, I'll like them," I tell her, even though it's not entirely true. I clasp the necklace and she drops her hands. "And if I don't, I'll still be nice."

I grin and she meets my eyes in the mirror with a wary look but she's got a slight smile. "Okay."

Her body is relaxed against me, her weight resting slightly against me. I'm still caught off guard when she gives me moments like these. The moments where she doesn't seem to think and falls into me.

I reach over her shoulder and adjust the necklace, setting the charm at the center of her chest, letting my fingers linger because I like the way she tenses. "Plus, I'm going to this because you asked me to," I say quietly. "As long as you like me, I'm fine."

She turns around with a little sigh, we're almost chest to chest and I fight the urge to wrap my arms around her hips and pull her closer. She pouts a little when she meets my eyes, something I'm genuinely sure she doesn't know she does when she's thinking.

"I do like you," she says softly, playing with the hem of my sweater, "You're like practically taking the space of my best friend and they can get real mean when they get jealous, you know?" She laughs at her own joke.

"I promise I won't let my feelings get hurt," I say, letting my eyes pause at the curve of her lips.

She meets my eyes,  "Okay. Just don't cry if they say something mean about your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" I frown.

She steps away from me, laughing, walking into her bathroom. I lean against the counter and she sits on it, doing her make-up. She talks to me about random shit from her work, I keep up with all the names because, knowing her, she's gonna start bringing these people up regularly as if I know them personally.

When she does her eyeliner, she turns towards me with a smile, "You should totally let me do yours!"

******

We leave the house ten minutes later. I got out of her doing my make-up because I started talking about I didn't think it would match my outfit. When we stand in the elevator, I notice how much closer she stands; how she leans into me slightly, and the way she doesn't avoid eye contact as much. I spent so long trying to reach this point with her. She moves in baby steps and I'm not gonna rush her.

Nova

When we get to the lobby doors, I try to walk out at the same time as someone walking in and almost run into them but before I can, two hands on my hips pull me back. "I swear you're an idiot," he murmurs against my ear.

I laugh a little, mainly because his hands are still on my hips and my stomach is spinning. "I wasn't looking," I say as if it wasn't obvious. Real smooth, Nova.

He drops his hands, jokingly pushing me forward a little. I'm sure my face is red when we start walking again. Outside, he starts walking towards his car and I think I'd rather walk because we don't have to go too far. "We should walk," I say to him.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because it's so nice outside plus everywhere we need to go is close," I explain.

"Uh-huh, and what happens when we have a bunch of bags to carry?" He questions.

"You go to the gym... you could carry them," I grin. "I could help a little as well."

"Mmhm," he says, rolling his eyes. But he also puts his keys back in his pocket and I fight my grin.

As we walk, he keeps messing with the claw clip holding my hair up. I keep having to hit his hand when he does it because he's making it lose. When I finally get tired of it, I just keep my hand wrapped around his wrist so he can't anymore. I drop it when we have to step apart because the street gets crowded.

In all my time in this endless city, I've learned that, one, no one smiles back and you can't let it hurt your feelings; two, you'll never get the same experience twice. You could walk the same street twice and still see something that wasn't there the morning before. Sometimes, though, I wonder if it's just perspective. If I was walking with someone else, would they notice everything I didn't?

"Do you think we see things differently?" I ask randomly. By now, the cool breeze has reached every part of my body and I'm starting to regret wearing this top. It has long sleeves but it's a thin material. It's not too cold outside yet, but in a few weeks it's going to snow and I'm probably going to wish I lived somewhere warmer.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Like, you know how no two people see the world the same, how differently do you think we see it?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says after a little bit. "I guess we grew up differently and that's mainly when people form opinions on things."

"Yeah, I guess," I say. "But does that make it harder for us to be friends?"

"We're doing it," he shrugs, meeting my eyes shortly with the 'what are you implying' look.

"Well yeah, but do you think we have to work more?" I ask. In all honesty, the biggest difference between us has always been the way we do things. We can agree on a lot but when it comes down to it, I've never had the same way of living or the same habits as him. We were raised to be two completely different people and I've always wondered if that makes us work or if that makes it easier for us to pretend like we work.

"No," he says confidently. "I think it's the opposite. We both learn from each other and you're a lot more interesting to talk to than a lot of the people I know. It's the whole opposites attract thing, Scott. I wouldn't be me without you and you wouldn't be you without me."

"That's your ego talking," I laugh. He's right though. If I hadn't known him, I don't even know if I'd still be here. If I hadn't met Theo as a fragile 13-year-old, I wouldn't know that having one meaningful relationship makes up for all the ones you don't have.

"No," he says, smiling just a little. "I mean it; It's always been easier with you, Nova."

That sentence makes my entire body flush with warmth. My heart stammers and my cheeks grow pink. "I don't know if that's always true...," I say, half-joking.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Maybe when you're not talking..."

I shove him, trying to look upset when I meet his eyes. He narrows them at me and drapes his arm over my shoulder, "You look like you're gonna throw up."

I laugh, trying to pull