(I'm not proud of writing this, and I'm sure you'll think it's cringe as well 🥲)
"Would you like some breakfast?" I was going to tell Colby about my anxiety, and how journaling helped me cope a little bit, but he already pitied me enough, I didn't want more of his second-hand sympathy. Besides, it was never diagnosed as really bad anxiety, it would be silly to dramatize it. I walked out of my bedroom, in to the kitchen, and over to the butlers pantry, looking the breakfast options. "So, we have cereal, toast orrrrr..." I thought that Colby was obediently following me, but when I heard plastic hitting the linoleum floors, I knew he was at the fridge... why wasn't I surprised though?
"I thought that what ever this was looked yummy, buuuut then I dropped it," he held out a bowl of cold, sticky, beige goop, now with bits of dirt and hair stuck to it after hitting the floor. "You mean oatmeal? I could understand not knowing what the Vietnamese food was, but you've never had oatmeal?!" I think I got a little bit dramatic, because he admitted to knowing what it was, just that the batch in the fridge was old, and was a bit mouldy, so it was basically unidentifiable.
We settled on making us some more, newer, oatmeal for us both, pouring in the water and placing it in the microwave. As I turned around to face Colby however, I was greeted with tiny specks of water being flug at my face. I crinkled up my nose, taking a quick second to scheme my devious plan. I sprinted over to my sink, turned on the faucet, and cupped my hands, letting them turn into a bowl for a reasonably large amount of water. "You wouldn't," Colby widend his eyes in readiness. I laughed evily, before I chucked the water at him.
Unfortunately, it seemed like all of the snooping around my house did him well, as he realised that we had a pull out tap. Before I could think straight, the water pressure had been turned all the way up, and it was being shot right at my face and chest. "You bitch! I liked this shirt! I'm gonna kill you," I ran at him, head on. I wasn't planning on hurting him, just... maiming, maybe? With the stance of a bull, I charged towards him, but my feet weren't on the ground for long. He had picked my up and dropped me over his should like a was a baby in need of a burping. I sighed and my chin fell on his middle-back, "I hate you so much." I weakly punched his back.
"Woah... get a room guys," the sarcastic tone I had grown up with entered the room, and Colby knelt down so I could get off of him. "What's that supposed to mean?" He said in response to Ben.
"Well, this..." he looked at us weirdly, and that's when I realised that splotches of our shirts were see-through because of the water, "this activity is something that happens in shows like Heartstopper, or, I don't know, Young Royals...? Just any shows that contains homosexual romance."
Colby and I chuckled awkwardly, avoiding eye contact before I talked, "I think the umm.. oatmeal will be ready now." I clicked oped the microwave, and took out the steaming bowl, to which I almost burnt my fingertips on. "Get the Colby, Honey," I was obviously still a bit bit flustered.
"Excuse me?"
"Aaahh! I mean- uhg- I..."
"Hah, I knew what you meant... Honey." He laughed, and I didn't blame him.