mona lisa , chris sturniolo

37 | so in love it hurts

♫ minor / gracie abrams ♫
☆
M-I-N-O-R
i'm minorly stuck
and it's not your fault
its just how things are

🍊 🍊 🍊

| real life |

real life

The next morning, Chris finds me curled up on the couch on the back patio nursing a large cup of coffee, my eyes glued to the sunrise.

"You are probably the weirdest hungover person to ever exist," Chris yawns as he settles into the space beside me. "The fact that the only time you get up early is when you were out all night drinking is serial killer activity."

"I get sentimental when I'm hungover. I can't sleep." I pass Chris my coffee cup when he extends his hand for it, my hand warming when his fingers brush mine.

Chris takes a careful sip of the scalding liquid, his nose wrinkling at the bitter taste. "You don't just get sentimental, you get in the mood to make life-altering decisions. You seriously cannot be left unattended the morning after drinking." Not noticing my sheepish expression, Chris takes another sip of coffee before passing the cup back to me. "Weren't you hungover when you called your mom last year and told her to fuck off and mind her own business?"

"Hungover Bryn is very assertive. She knows what she wants and has no patience for any bullshit." I accept my mug back from Chris and take a long sip, my eyes shifting to the pink and orange sky against the pale blue ocean. "I think she's pretty iconic."

"Oh no," Chris groans, shifting his weight to look at me fully. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," I reply innocently, raising my cup to my mouth to hide the tilt of my lips.

"Brynlee."

I scoff at the use of my full name. "You sound like my mother." When Chris gives me a look, I sigh and put my coffee cup on the ground before turning sideways on the couch to face Chris. "So..."

"Does this decision involve me?" Chris interrupts, his eyes widening in a slight panic. He looks adorable with his bed head, pyjama pants, and hoodie, and I can't stop the fond smile that crosses my face.

"Not necessarily," I answer vaguely, giggling when Chris scowls at me, signalling his impatience. "I dropped out of university this morning."

Chris' jaw drops. "Shut the fuck up. You're joking."

"I'm so dead ass."

Chris' face blooms in a radiant smile and he throws his arms around me. "Fuck yes! I knew you would eventually!"

I laugh as I hug Chris back. "I was not expecting you to be so excited."

"B, school makes you miserable. I hate seeing you force yourself to do something you hate." Chris pulls away from me, his grin not fading as he tucks a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "So what now? I noticed the other day that your YouTube suggestions are full of tattooing tutorial videos."

Nervousness creeps over my skin and I duck my chin, my eyes fixating on the plaid pattern of Chris' pants. "I started looking into art schools in LA. It's too late for me to apply to start in the fall, but I could start in the winter term."

"You're thinking about staying?" Chris' voice quiets, and my eyes dart up to see a look of awe on his face. "But you love Boston."

I shrug, my mouth rounding in a tiny smile. "Yeah, but I love you more. Home is wherever you are."