"Wanna be my roommate?" I smile at the suggestion. "Come on! It'd be so fun," she starts before I can respond. "I'll cook us food, and-"

"Ivy, you can't cook," I remind her.

"I'll learn!" She brings her hands over my eyes, and pushes me gently to lay on the bed. "Imagine it...Dancing in the brothy kitchen lights. Eating blueberry pancakes. It'd be perfect. Well, we'd have to do the dishes after, but other than that..."

I laugh, deep in thought as I try to imagine her fantastical scenario. Dean Martin playing in the background, and a smile spread across our faces, I'd twirl her around in her dress. And I'd watch as she so effortlessly moves with me, her arms wrapped around my neck, and hips swaying to the music.

The scent of blueberry pancakes would fill what's now 'our' kitchen, and we'd sing along to the music. "Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me, sway with ease. When we dance, you have a way with me, stay with me, sway with me."

And my hand would brush her cheek, moving a stray strand of hair out of her face. At the same time, she'd wrap herself in my arms, and I know I'd never, ever be happier than in that moment.

"You're not making a very good case," I declare, completely lying but amused at where she'll take this.

"I know, I know...We could make waffles if that's what you prefer. Pancakes are better though." I open my eyes, and watch her ramble, smiling to myself at how beautiful she is.

"Aaron!" She finally looks at me. "Close your eyes-" I crash my lips into her lips, her body melting against my touch, and her scent consuming me. I swear I can even see it dancing around this room in hues of pink, and yellow. I swear I can taste its sweetness on my lips.

I pull away. "Yeah, I wanna be your roommate."