❝ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐒 ❞

Staring At the

"𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭"💙💈

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Antonio

He had to have been awake for nearly an hour now, and he'd done nothing but lie down and stare at the ceiling. He loved it.

He couldn't remember the last time he had time to relax and sleep in. He would always get up early to walk Mira, then make lemonade when he got back, and get to the park by eight, which took up most of his day. If he was lucky like the night before last, he'd be able to just do some chores and go to bed. Most of the time, his evenings consisted of reviewing manuscripts for clients who didn't pay him nearly enough for him to edit 100,000+ words of bad romance and smut.

Antonio couldn't complain too much though. He had enough money for his rent and bills, and Mira wasn't especially hard to take care of. He was living better now than he had ever before. He knew he had his Mum to thank for raising him to be so disciplined.

He smiled as he thought of his mum. If she could only see him now. She'd be proud of him, he was sure.

Even still, Antonio wished his mattress at home was as soft and comfortable as the one he was lying. When he'd gone to the mattress shop, beds like this cost nearly 1700 pounds.

That thought made him frown slightly. Was Drake rich? Antonio didn't particularly like rich people. They always seemed so entitled. So for Drake to be in his late teens and being able to comfortably, Antonio assumed, afford such a house, Drake had to be well-off.

Then again, Drake had been nothing but nice to him, even if he was weird. Maybe Antonio was too quick to judge.

Then he remembered his days in high school and winced. Yeah, rich people were incredibly self-entitled. Drake probably inherited the house from his parents or something.

Antonio recalled the night before. He liked Drake, even if it was obvious he couldn't cook. Antonio didn't mind that much. He had come over when neither of them planned for him to do so, and the lasagna, reheated or not, was delicious.

Not to mention, Drake had been nice enough to let him use his television. It had been years since he'd watched one. He couldn't even remember how old he was then. 12...? Maybe 13?

Antonio had felt so happy then, happier than he was now. Sure he was living better now but what did that matter if he wasn't happy?

But last night, being out with Drake, having dinner with him, and watching that funny show with him? Antonio was happiest he'd been in a long while. The only downside he could think of was he still didn't know if Drake thought of their evening together as a date.

Antonio rubbed his forehead in annoyance. How hard to read could a person who asked for grapes at a lemonade stand be?

He made up his mind. He was going to find out if the previous night had been a date.

It didn't need to be said, but he really hoped it was.