Delilah
Shane had held me in his arms for a while.
We headed back to his house, and for hours, we sat on the couch, just staring at each other. Only when I had woken up did I realize that I fell asleep. I heard him come down the stairs, and he looked like he had just walked out of the shower. It makes sense.
He had a towel around his waist, and a toothbrush in his mouth, and he stopped walking.
"Morning, Deils."
"Hi, Shane."
I said with a laugh.
He looked at me with a confused face.
"What?"
He said. He looked down, then said
"Oh. Yeah. i just need some pants."
"You go do that."
"I'm doing that right now."
He walked into the next room, and a minute later, he came out with pants on and no shirt. He went upstairs, put a shirt on, then came back down. As he was tying his shoes, I was playing with his wet hair.
"Why are you putting shoes on?"
"Because we're going on a road trip."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
Pretty soon, we were back in the car, and he was driving to God knows where. He didnt' tell me. Soon, he stopped at the Hollywood sign. We got out of the car, and we hung out up there all day. He had packed a picnic, and we snacked all day.
Later in the evening, I was looking out into LA.
It was an amazing sight.
The streetlights, the building lights, the headlights and taillights, and at dusk, it was fantastic. And I was with the man I loved. Nothing could have made this more perfect.
Well, until he said
"Hey Deils?"
"Yeah?"
"Turn around for me, will you?"
I gave him a look.
"Can you just do it? It's nothing bad."
"Sure."
I did, and he lifted my hair up. He had put a necklace around my neck. He let my hair down.
I picked the necklace up, and I looked at it. It was a gold locket in the shape of a heart. On the inside were our initials in the Rolling Stone font.
"Shane, I- I- I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything at all."
He pulled me into a sweet kiss that said everything I couldn't find words for.
We were in a beautiful spot, on a beautiful night, he had given me a beautiful necklace, and nothing could have made this better.
I felt myself drifting off into a sleep. I couldn't fall asleep, so I sat up, in hopes of that being helpful.
"You ok?"
He groggily said.
"Yeah. I just don't want to fall asleep. I'm afraid I'm going to miss something."
"It's ok. I'll carry you home tonight."
And that was what I did. I ended up falling asleep in his arms as he carried me back to the car. I curled up, and he wrapped a soft blanket around me. I guess he had taken it from the back seat. My eyes were closed, but the movement of the car, and the sound of the highway, and all the tail lights and headlights lulled me into a deep sleep. And I swear, I started singing. He chimed in when I stopped.
"Just a small town girl..."
"Living in a lonely world."
"She took the midnight train going... anywhere."
"Just a city boy... born and raised..."
"In south Detroit, he took the midnight train,"
"Going anywhere."
"A singer in a smokey room... with the smell of wine..."
"And cheap perfume,"
"For a smile they can share the night..."
"It goes on and on and on and on."
And with that, I fell completely asleep, and I began snoring. And I leaned over on his arm, and began to drool. He told me the next morning. Well, after I had a serious scare about work.
I woke up in a bed that smelled just like him. I smiled. I was warm, and my fingers made their way up to the locket. I smiled even wider. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, they landed on the clock. I was an hour late for work.
I jumped out of bed, threw my hair into a messy braid, put my blazer on and my high tops, and I sprinted down the stairs while brushing my teeth. He was sitting at the counter eating waffles.
"What's the rush? And is that my toothbrush?"
"I'm late for work, and yes! Now move!"
I pushed him aside so I could spit in the sink. I took a swig of his orange juice to clear the toothpaste spit out, which wasn't the best plan, and I stuck his toothbrush like a pencil behind his ear. He was laughing.
"Why are you laughing!?"
"Because. It's Sunday."
"Are you serious?"
He nodded.
"Well, in that case, I don't need this, or this."
I took off my shoes and my blazer. I let my hair down, and I stood on the other side of the counter with a fork.
"And I can do this."
I took a bite of his waffles, and he looked at me. I gave a devious smirk, and I continued eating.
"Do you want some of your own?"
He said that after I had eaten the majority of what was left of his.
"No thanks. I'm good. But thanks for asking."
I took another bite, and he said
"You can have the rest."
"Kay."
I took the plate from him, and I sat down on the couch next to him. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and we watched.
A week later, I wasn't feeling so hot. I was feverish, and I was hot and cold, and I felt weak in my knees, my head hurt, and I was constantly nauseous whenever food came near me, or whenever I stood up fast. Or at all, for that matter.
"Ok that's it. I'm taking you to a doctor."
He carried me to his car, and he laid me down in the back seat. He drove to the doctor, who diagnosed me with the stomach flu.
I threw up a couple times every time he brought home food, tried to get me to eat, or if he was cooking. I used up four boxes of tissues in two days, and I slept a lot. A LOT. I slept for a whole day straight.
And I figured out that he had gone into my job, and did my job for me. Great. He was gonna fail. He came home, and he said
"I totally respect you even more than I already do. You have a hard job."
"It's not that hard, it's just that you've never had to do any real work in your life."
"Oh God, can we not go back to like, the second day we knew each other? Thanks."
He ruffled my hair and walked out. He began cooking, and I began gagging. He said
"If you toss your cookies on my couch, I swear to GOD!"
Then, there was a knock on the door. I heard him say
"Thank GOD you four showed up. I need the extra help."
"Why? You never told us why."
Jesse said.
"I told her not to use my toothbrush."
"NO, YOU DIDN'T!"
I yelled as best as I could.
Then, the fumes of the cooking was just too much, and I began to gag harder.
"Come on, guys. Help me here."
They carried me to my bathroom (we were in my house now instead of his), and I only got sick a little bit. Jesse flushed the toilet with his foot, and we walked out. Shane gave me a stick of gum, and I could hold that down. But within a few days, Shane got sick too. He should have gotten a new toothbrush.
We were on the couch together, and he was coughing into my hair, and I was sneezing on his arm. We were watching the news until my head started hurting like hell.
Shane shut off the TV, and I moaned into the pillow. There was a knock on the door, and that made my head throb even more. Yeah. It was my mom who was at the door. I could tell now that this wasn't going to end very well.