"No," I whispered.

"Why?" he asked in hushed tones.

"Because... no."

"But why?" he whined.

"Because it's 2 in the morning," I mumbled.

"But I want ice cream," he groaned.

"Shh!" I clamped my hand over his mouth.

"I know my room isn't soundproof, but the walls aren't made out of paper. Their room is downstairs, why are you whispering?" he asked, talking at a normal volume.

"I don't know, cause it's late at night," I shrugged, "We're not going out for ice cream," I said.

"We're going out for ice cream," he argued.

"No," I shook my head.

"Yes," he nodded.

I huffed, both of us falling into a staring contest. "No, but we can go out for breakfast in the morning and you can get ice cream then," I bargained.

"Okay, fair deal," he smiled before kissing me.

"Ethan," I chuckled against his lips, "Go to sleep."

"But I can't stop kissing you," he mumbled against my lips. I pulled away while smiling and looked at him. He leaned in but I leaned back. He huffed.

"It's 2 am. You can kiss me tomorrow," I whispered.

"But I don't want to wait till tomorrow," he groaned.

"Well, patience is key," I laughed.

"I don't need a key," he shrugged.

"You..." I trailed off, staring at him.

He lay there beside me, watching me with a grin that lit up his entire face. "What?" he chuckled. I didn't say anything but I did start smiling. "What?" he laughed, grabbing either side of my head, shaking it lightly.

"Nothing," I whispered, softly shaking my head.

"You're weird," he said, looking at me quizzically. I smiled, rubbing my eyes. "I like it," he grinned, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer.

"I didn't know you were into weirdos," I laughed.

"Didn't you know? I've got a massive thing for weirdos. Especially this one," he chuckled, running his fingers through my hair.

"Well, sorry. Weirdos only go out with weirdos," I scoffed.

"Damn it," he mumbled. I looked at him and he was still grinning.

"You can stop smiling now, it's getting creepy," I chuckled.

"I can't stop smiling when I'm staring at you, you should have noticed, it's been going on for a while," he chuckled, grabbing my hand and holding our held hands up, comparing sizes. "Your hands are tiny," he smiled.

"Your hands are huge," I argued.

He rolled his eyes with a soft laugh, "Right, that's what it is."

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

I woke up halfway through whatever was left of the night to my stomach hurting. I resisted making any noise and grabbed my phone, checking the date. "Great," I mumbled. I'm either about to get my period, or I've already got it. I turned to face Ethan and he was fast asleep, his arm draped over my waist, holding me in place. I sighed before slowly lifting his arm and slipping out of bed, tiptoeing to his bathroom.

Once I came out of the bathroom, I knew I either had to go to the closest drug store or to my house. I threw on my flip flops and grabbed my phone and keys, freezing when they jingled in my hands. I let out a breath and grabbed them in my fist, standing upright.

"You're horrible at sneaking out," he said, his voice hoarse and croaky.

"I'm not sneaking out," I whispered.

"What else is happening?" he chuckled.

Silence.

"You're dreaming," I whispered.

"Where are you going, Olivia?" he asked, opening his eyes looking at me.

"Home," I mumbled.

"Why?" he groaned, sitting upright.

"I'm feeling sick," I lied.

"Are you okay?" he asked, throwing the covers off and started getting out of bed.

"Yeah, I just need to grab some stuff," I shrugged, heading to his door.

"I'll go get it for you," he said, shooting up and blocking my way, taking the keys out of my hands.

"You-"

"Just tell me what to bring," he shrugged.

I sighed in defeat, "I need painkillers, there's a heating pad in my nightstand, it's microwavable, please bring that, and there should be a pink pouch under the sink in the cabinet in my bathroom which would have my pads and tampons, can you bring all that for me?" I asked, sitting at the foot of his bed. "Oh, and the pouch should have extra underwear," I grinned.

He stared at me, seemingly flustered. "Uh..."

"That's what I thought." I stood up, holding my hand out for the keys.

"No, that's... I can get it," he shrugged.

"What?" I laughed.

"I'll get all that for you, don't uh... don't worry," he said dismissively.

"Are you sure?" I clarified.

He nodded, "Totally, any spare clothes or anything you need?" he asked.

"I'm only here for the day," I chuckled.

"You can stay as long as you want but yeah, all right, give me a minute," he said, slowly pulling his door open.

"I can just go get it, Ethan. You don't have to-"

"It's okay, I can get it. Where are the painkillers kept?" he questioned, turning to me.

"They're with the heating pad in my nightstand," I answered.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, closing the door softly and leaving.

I stared at the door, slightly surprised that he agreed to do that for me and it's around... 4:45 am. Great. I was very confused, no ex has ever really done anything but piss me off during my period. It was also just 'a woman's problem' and they claimed to not know how to help. But how hard is it to grab a few things for us?

The door opened again and his head peeked. "It's a pink pouch you said? In your bathroom? With the uh... stuff?" he stammered in confusion.

I smiled, "Yeah, it's a pink pouch," I answered.

"Okay," he nodded, turning back around to leave.

"Ethan!" I whisper-yelled.

"Anything else?" he asked, turning to me.

"Uh, no. Just..." I trailed off, staring at him. He raised his eyebrows at me in question but I just leaned forward and gave him a kiss. I fought back a smile and pulled away, looking at him.

"I would've gotten your stuff for you even if you didn't do that," he mumbled absentmindedly.

"I didn't do it so you got me my stuff," I shrugged, "I just felt like it," I whispered.

"Okay," he smiled.

"Okay," I chuckled. He pecked my lips before leaving. I shut the door and took this as an opportunity to look around his room, snoop a little. I was looking around the giant bookcase he's had for almost all the years he's lived here. He's had this since he couldn't even reach the top shelf.

Speaking of, I can't reach the top shelf. But I tried to anyway. I jumped, reaching my arm out causing a plethora of binders to fall. I stumbled back, the binders just missing my feet. "Oops," I mumbled to myself.

"What are you doing?" I got startled, looking out the window, seeing him leaning through mine.

I sighed, letting out a breath I was holding. "Snooping around," I grinned. He chuckled, shaking his head and going back to grabbing my things while I grabbed all the binders and sat down on the carpeted floor. I opened the first binder, closing it once I realized it's just notes from last year.

The binders were all the same. Schoolwork. Until the last one. When I opened that, it was all pictures. From last year to preschool. All annual pictures, some that our school took, and some that his parents did. I put all the other binders back so I could focus on this one and then sat back down on the floor, looking at his bedroom door when it opened.

"Here you go," he grinned.

"Thanks," I stood up, grabbing the pouch from him. He set the painkillers and heating pad down on the nightstand and sat there on the bed. "Don't touch the binder," I said warningly before going into the bathroom. I did what I had to do and then went back out. He was in the same spot, zoned out as he stared through the window. I snapped in front of his face and he blinked rapidly, turning to me. "Hi," I smiled.

"Hi," he grinned.

"Wanna explain as I look through?" I asked, sitting on the floor.

"Sure," he sighed, sitting in front of me. I picked up the first one. "That's my photo from last year," he said, snatching it out of my hand and shoving it under all the others.

"You look fine," I laughed, grabbing the next one.

"That's Daniel, Austin, and me from last year Christmas, we all went to New Jersey to visit Daniel's grandparents cause they invited us over," he said. He looked cute wearing a Christmas onesie with a Santa hat. I liked it.

We flicked through all the photos just like this. "What's this?" I asked, already knowing the answer as I held up a loom band.

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"This is a bracelet that I made in eighth grade when the teachers told us to do something for friendship day, just to remind you. And I tried to be mature and give it to you and what did you do?" I asked, arching a sharp brow at him.

"Threw it in the pool and made you get it," he smiled sheepishly.

"At least you remember," I shrugged, "Why the pool though?" I frowned in confusion, putting it down with the other things.

"We had swim practice when you came to give it to me, what else was I supposed to do?" he shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know, wear it maybe?"

"Maybe," he nodded, smirking.

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