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I cannot begin to tell you how hard it is to type an essay with one hand in the dark in the middle of the night.
After spending half an hour crying from our argument, I decided it was the right time to get my homework done - it's not like I would be getting any sleep anyway.
Last I checked the clock on my desk it was 1 am and I couldn't help but flicker my eyes to the base of the door to the bathroom, hoping to see a light or anything that would indicate the Mason was still awake.
I know I should be mad at him. Of course I should be furious with the tithings he said, but I knew deep down that his pride was obscuring how I wanted to help him.
I knew or at least hoped that he didn't mean the words he'd said in his anger and every time I looked at the door I hoped that he would burst through with sorries leaving his lips and scoop me up in a bear hug and kiss me.
But he didn't.
When it clicked to one thirty, I'd finished my Lit essay and was just sitting on my chair hugging my knee, staring out the window at the way the moon made the leaves shoot light at all different angles like tiny spotlights.
I stood from my chair and tip toed to the door where I opened it slowly. Masons door was open but he wasn't in his bed yet the sheets were wrinkled.
I stepped softly through the bathroom to look into his room and saw him sitting on the floor staring out the window with his back against the frame and one leg extended.
Should I go out and sit beside him or just leave him?
I decided on the former and went over to sit next to him, desperate to kill the awkwardness between us.
He didn't acknowledge me but I stared at the way the moon shon on his face, highlighting the contours of his jaw and cheekbones.
We sat in silence for a while before I finally made a move to touch him. His hands were resting across his stomach and I reached out to pick up his fingers and take them in my hand.
He looked down at me with an expression that was impossible to read, but he didn't take his hand away.
His eyes looked grey in the light and the bags under his eyes were defined.
"I'm sorry I insulted you." I whispered, looking down at our hands and so he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes.
"I only meant to help, I didn't mean to suggest anything else."
He shifted so he was facing me.
"I'm sorry for the things I said, I didn't mean any of it." He pushed my hair from my face pushed my chin up with his finger.
"Forgiven." I smiled softly at him and snuggled into his side, finally closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.
I wake up on Masons bed with the sheet tangled around my legs and Mason asleep with his arm wrapped tightly around my stomach.
I rolled over with great difficulty to face him and kiss him softly. I felt his eyelashes brush against me as he blinks awake.
"Morning." He said, his voice full of sleep as he rolled onto his back to stretch.
"Morning." I replied. I admit, even though we smoothed things over pretty quickly last night, there were still words that needed to be said and things that needed clarifying.
I didn't want Mason to have to pay for his sisters surgery and then be out of pocket for god knows how long. The least I could do would be help him out.
I scratched above the cast, it really was beginning to get itchy and the only way I could reach inside was with a chopstick and we didn't have any takeaway chopsticks in his room.
"What time is it?" He asked, and I moved to the side to look at the clock beside the bed on the table.
"Eight. Breakfast?"
"Sure." He got out of bed an I sat up, just watching him in his gym shorts as he walked through the bathroom to my room to get his bag, rubbing his eyes.