𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | ✓

64

"So now graduating on time is a bad thing?"

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just pointing out how all the other professors are old with big bellies and fading hairline."

"Actually it's just here... I've had professors who were my age right now when I was a student." He stares at the TV screen. "You weren't exaggerating about the rom com part?"

I giggle as I put a spoonful of ice cream, enjoying the rich flavor of chocolate melting in my mouth and I moan in approval. "This is too good." I point at it and take another spoon.

He deeply gazes at me. I fail to decipher his thoughts and emotions, but for tonight, I don't want to delve deep into anything.

So I let it slide and throw the TV remote at him. Spencer catches it mid-air and gives me confused look.

"Choose something, this one sucks. And if the one you chose was shitty, I'll choose the next one. We have the entire night."

"How about we try to find the worst movie?" he suggests as he flips through the options.

I jump in my seat. "The one who finds it wins."

"And what does the winner get?" He glances at me sideways.

I burrow time by filling my mouth with another spoon of ice cream, thinking. "The winner gets to ask something, anything, from the loser. And the loser can't refuse to answer, or give it."

He halts, contemplating, as he narrows his eyes for a moment before giving in. "Okay."

I grin. "Prepare yourself, Spencer Wright, 'cause you're about to lose."

He laughs. "Don't be so sure about that."

And we set on finding the worst movies, at some point, he takes off his sweater and somehow we end under the blanket together. Too soon, the clock's hand travels across the face of the watch and we're only seven minutes away from midnight.

I pause the movie. "Let's go to the rooftop to see the fireworks." I jump up from my seat and pull him up too.

He groans but gets to his feet. "It's been snowing nonstop, we won't be able to go up there."

"But we have to try," I tell him and hurry to my bedroom, picking up the nearest coat and slipping into it.

By the time I come back, he has his sweater on and is wearing his coat. "You sure you won't get cold with that?" his eyes travel from my head to toe. I give him a nod as I put on my boots.

"Let's go," I whine, pulling his hand.

He laughs. "When did you start being so pushy?"

"I don't want to miss the fireworks."

We step out of my apartment and climb up the flight of stairs, leading to the rooftop. As Spencer had expected, I fail to open the door to the rooftop. No matter what either of us does, it doesn't budge.

My face falls and he huffs, "I told you. Not to mention, who builds a door that opens in the wrong direction"

I pout, glaring at the door. "We had to try though," I mumble.

He motions with his hand for me to move away from the door and I watch him with confusion.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I hear him mutter under his breath as he sets his entire force on the side that the door handle is. By the time he's breathing heavily, the door opens an inch and again excitement buzzes in my entire body.

With much more force, he opens it a bit more, finds a shovel and pushes it through the small gap, and moves away the snow that's blocking the door's path.