So Be It // o. maatta

Chapter Eighty-One

Chapter Eighty-One: Alex's POV

I awoke the next morning to an empty bed, and the smell of something burning. I laid there for a minute, or so, just staring at the ceiling, before rolling over, and grabbing my glasses. I crawled out of bed, and grabbed my sweatshirt, pulling it on overtop my tank top. I fumbled with my shorts, but eventually got them off, and replaced them with a pair of sweats.

God, it was early. It was a Sunday, and rarely was I ever up that early on Sundays. Usually Sundays were the days I could sleep in, and not have to fret about studying.

I shuffled out of Olli's bedroom, and made my way down the short hallway, to the kitchen. There, Olli stood, in these ridiculous plaid pajama bottoms, with the Duquesne sweatshirt I had bought him. His blonde hair faced every-which-way, and his eyes looked bloodshot. God, he was a mess, but a beautiful one at that.

I quietly made my way over to him, and snaked my arms around his waist, nuzzling my face into his back.

He reached down to where my hands were, and laid a hand over mine, keeping the other parallel to the stove. "Hey, baby." He cooed.

"Hi." I murmured into his sweatshirt, inhaling deeply. I know this probably sounds creepy, but I loved the smell of Olli. He always smelled good, and it was always so reassuring.

"I'm making breakfast." He declared, happily.

I grinned against his back. "Oh, really?"

"Really." He nodded.

I unraveled myself from him, and moved beside him, resting against the countertop.

"I made you tea." He mumbled, eyes fixated on the eggs before him. His tongue drooped out of his mouth a little, which, might I say, was fucking precious.

I walked over to the kettle, grabbing a mug along the way. Once I finished up pouring, I walked over to the side of the kitchen, back near Olli, and leaned against the ledge of the counter, right in front of the toaster oven.

The toaster oven was expelling heat, keeping me warm, along with my tea, while Olli's soft hums filled the kitchen. I can't express how happy I was in that moment.

The dim kitchen light was all that was on, while all the curtains were still closed. It was dark, and quiet, and just overwhelmingly peaceful. I wanted everyday to be this perfect.

Just then, the toaster oven dinged, signifying the toast was done.

I began walking over to it, to get the toast for Olli, since he looked pretty wrapped up in the eggs, but he waved me off, and told me to sit down. "This is my gift to you, babe. Go sit down."

I smiled a bit, before asking, "Why are you doing this? I mean, I love it, and all, but what's the motive? What did you do?"

He grinned, fairly blushing. "I wasn't home for Valentine's Day, so, I'm making up for not being around."

"'Not being around'? Olli, you were at the fucking Olympics. It's not like you were shacking up with some other girl." I lovingly gazed at him. He was so innocently sweet.

"I know, but, I still would've wanted to be around." He walked over to me, resting both his hands on my hips, still clutching the spatula in one of them.

I had to physically look up to look him in the eye. "Olli, have I ever told you how much I adore you? And how I want to spend every day of my life with you? And how I want to have your children? And how lucky I am to have you?"

He leaned down, and brushed his lips against the tip of my nose. "I still think I'm the lucky one."

I just shook my head. "I have to disagree with you there."

"Well then, you're wrong." He told me, very gently.

"I'm a Neal. Don't you know, we're never wrong."

He playfully rolled his eyes. "You're almost a Maatta, though. And after that, you won't be a Neal anymore."

"I'm still a Neal for five months." I mumbled.

"Four." He corrected me. "Four months."

"Hmm? We agreed to get married in July, and, well, it's February, so that's five-"

"We're getting married in June." He blurted out.

"Huh?"

"You said you wanted to get married in Market Square, right? Well, I talked to someone, and they pulled some strings, and alas, we're getting married there! But the only time they could do it was the first week of June, so..yeah."

"What?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. "We're getting married in Market Square?"

Olli nodded, slightly. "Yeah. Is that, is that okay?" He said, slowly.

"Okay?" I asked, pushing myself onto my tiptoes, and slamming my lips into his. "Olli, it's perfect."

He smiled into the lip-lockage. "Good."

After a minute or so, I dropped down to my regular height, and gazed up, into his eyes. "Olli, we're getting married." I uttered.

He stared down at me, biting his lip, silently.

"Olli?" I whispered.

"Yeah?" He responded.

"I think the eggs are burning."