“Damn. Sam was probably up all night watching her shows again and lost it.”
I let out a sigh and lay back, letting myself it stuck in a daydream while looking at the ceiling. I can feel the time slowly ticking away as I’m losing myself to pure boredom. After letting a few minutes pass, I decide to see what Sam’s up to in the kitchen. I make my way out of the bedroom, through the second floor hallway, and down the stairs.
The stairs in our house are a bit rickety, so Sam was able to hear me coming down the steps when she called out to me, “What are you doing out of bed, Alex?!”
“I got bored, so I wanted to come downstairs to see how you’re doing.” I step over to the living room and drop down onto the couch. I glance at the few magazines we left on the table just for whenever we want to look at something, and then something pops into my mind. I start looking through the furniture, “Now that I’m here, did you ever have the remote last night? I can’t find it upstairs for the T.V in the bedroom.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t find the one for the T.V in the living room, so I took the one from upstairs. I ended up falling asleep on the couch until morning and lost the upstairs remote too.”
“So, you didn’t decide to look for it when you woke up?”
“I wanted to rush and wake you up this morning. But I didn’t notice that it was daylight savings today…” I can hear her let out an embarrassed giggle on the other side of the house, “Sorry.”
I roll my eyes and sigh. I start flipping the couch cushions around and not I’m surprised at what I find. Underneath each couch, I find both of the remotes; I put both of them on the coffee table behind me and fix the living room back to normal.
I take one of the remotes and turn on the large living room T.V, quickly flipping around until I can find something suitable to watch. I stretch out along the couch and relax, smelling the sweet scent in the air coming from the kitchen. For some reason, the smell of cinnamon and sugar puts a smile on my face.
I sit up just a bit so I can get a look at Sam and her cooking prowess in front of the stove. Strangely, when I watch her cooking, I can sense the concentration coming off of her. Even with her focused cooking happening right now, I feel like everything’s a set up with how her clothes are acting right now.
Her pink and black pajama bottoms are tied tight around her hips as she gently rocks from side to side. She has a blank, white apron tied around her chest, but she fixes her midriff pink top so it doesn’t bunch up under the apron. Her dark brown, pin straight hair cuts off right at her shoulder blades and has a bright shine to it.
As I’m looking at her, she looks back and notices me looking. She lets out a small blush whens she talks, “W-What?”
I can feel my cheeks warming up, so I’m probably blushing too, “Nothing. Just like watching you cook.”
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