MONA LISA ✩ chris sturniolo

9 | pancake lover

♫  daylight / harry styles  ♫
☆
if i was a bluebird i would fly to you
you'd be the spoon
dip you in honey so i could be sticking to you

🍊 🍊 🍊

| real life | social media |

real life

By the time I was eight years old, the triplets and I were inseparable. We had been friends for a three years at that point, having met at the beginning of kindergarten. I probably spent more time at their house than my own, and I remember one day, Matt and Nick were both out with other friends, leaving Chris and I on our own. Without Nick around to squash our "stupid and life threatening" ideas, we were free to tackle any dream that popped into our heads. And on that day, Chris decided he wanted to explore the roof of the house.

Getting onto the roof was easier than we expected it to be. We climbed out the boys' bedroom window and shimmied along the roof to a spot where we could stretch out comfortably. That day was spent eating smuggled snacks from the kitchen and playing card games until Marylou, thinking we were just holed up in the bedroom, called us down for dinner.

Our favourite spot was adjusted slightly after the house fire, but the roof was still perfectly accessible. Thus, twelve years later, the roof of the Sturniolo household is still one of my favourite hideaway spots, and that is where Chris finds me early Sunday morning.

I had arrived back from Lizzy and Noah's later than I expected and, surprisingly, the boys were all asleep. I had crawled into bed beside Nick and managed to get a few hours of sleep, but I gave up trying to fall back asleep at six am after an hour of staring at the wall and pondering my existence.

Thinking I might catch the sunrise, I snuck through Chris' room and quietly clambered out the window. I didn't think I had woken him up, but ten minutes after I sit down on the roof, Chris is poking his head through the window.

"What are you doing out here?" Chris yawns, rubbing at his eyes. "It's too fucking early to be awake."

A fond smile creeps onto my face at his early morning adorableness, and I quickly divert my gaze to the skyline just starting to light up. "I couldn't sleep."

The panelling of the roof groans quietly as Chris climbs out his window, shuffling over to sit beside me. Unlike me, who is covered in goosebumps because I am only wearing the shorts and t-shirt I slept in, Chris is dressed in pyjama pants and a big hoodie. Stupid Chris.

Chris sucks in a deep breath, his eyes resting on the skyline. "You know, I rarely ever come up here by myself, but when you're here, I swear we end out here constantly."

"It's our spot," I shrug, my eyes flickering up to scan for any remaining stars. "Sorry if I woke you up. I thought I was being quiet."

"I didn't hear you. I just woke up and saw that the stuff on in front of my window had been moved and assumed you shoved it over to come out here."

"You're so smart," I tease, looking back at Chris. His face is only dimly lit by the streetlights, but I can still make out the corny grin on his face.

"You know it," Chris glances over at me, his gaze resting on my bare leg. "Dude, you're covered in goosebumps."

"I wasn't expecting it to be chilly out," I pull my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

"You can have my sweater." Before I can protest, Chris is tugging his black hoodie over his head and handing it to me, leaving him in a white tank top.

"Are you not cold?" I question, but take the sweater with no hesitation. "Thank you."