The penultimate Tuesday of March comes around, and my phone vibrates to alert me of a message from Annabelle.

Which I deem unnecessary, because she's sitting right next to me on the couch. She, Jacob, and I are binge-watching music videos on Annabelle's television. Right now Holding On To You is playing. Jenna had to work, unfortunately. But this is one of the twenty one pilots songs that Jenna actually admits to liking, so she is here in spirit.

im hungry

I look at the text, then open my conversation with Jacob.

Are you hungry?

I hear his phone play the intro to You Belong With Me, and he digs it out.

yeah

I slide off the couch and stand up, then pick up my sweater and head out of the lounge and down the hallway. I see Annabelle open her phone again, then head out the door.

are u going to get food???

Greek

ooh chicken pita pls

Mkay

youre the best datemate ever

I smile at her message, and then look up at the guy at the counter and place the order.

When I get back to Annabelle's, they've moved on to The 1975. Somebody Else is just starting when I shut the door and kick off my shoes.

I make my way into the room and place the containers of food on the coffee table. Annabelle practically dives off the couch in order to reach her meal. I giggle at her adorable antics and perch myself on the armrest of Jacob's chair. Jacob leans forward and gets two foil-wrapped pitas, then hands one to me.

Right before we start watching the Youngblood Chronicles, Jacob decides to bake something. He says he wants to keep it a surprise, so Annabelle grants him access to everything in her home.

We hear a couple of small crashes, but no extreme yelling (which Jacob only does when he's baking) so we don't budge.

Somewhere around the Just One Yesterday, I find myself curled into Annabelle's side.

Somewhere around Young Volcanoes, Annabelle's hand is running through my hair.

And somewhere around sometime, Jacob bursts through the curtain dividing the kitchen and the lounge, announcing he's finished only to be shushed politely by Annabelle, who shifts slightly. I sleepily groan and pull her closer. I'm on the brink of falling asleep.

"Haze," Jacob says, ignoring Annabelle's protests to just let her sleep. "Haze I made almond amaretti cookies."

He knew that would wake me up. Jacob's almond amaretti cookies are the best. I hazily push myself off Annabelle's comfy stomach and stumble after Jacob.

My foot connects with something, and I slip on the floor. My eyes shoot wide open and I let out a little squeak, but arms I recognize as Annabelle's wrap around me and prevent me from falling to my death.

Jacob turns around and just chuckles a little at the sight.

I roll my eyes at him and I look from him to the cookies and back at him. He sighs, then picks one up and feeds it to me in one bite. I immediately sigh in satisfaction. It tastes like marzipan and shortbread and powdered sugar.

"Mmm," I mumble through my mouthful. I hold up my fingers in the 'okay' sign. "That's some good baking right there, my friend." It comes out more like "Thomoodbaingfren," but he gets the gist.

Annabelle, still partially holding me up, heaves me into her right arm entirely and holds out her left hand. Jacob slaps a cookie into it, and she takes a bite.

"Yum," she agrees. Jacob beams at her, then me, then takes one for himself and hops up onto the counter.

"I can literally only make these a couple times a year because Hazel actually has a problem," Jacob says in a teasing voice, despite the fact that it's almost an understatement.

Annabelle looks down at me, and I look up at her sheepishly and nod to confirm the statement. "Sounds like you," she says.

I gasp. "I don't know what you mean by that statement but it's probably true." I open my mouth expectantly again and Jacob gives me another cookie.

We just hang out in Annabelle's kitchen, then go back into the lounge and watch more music videos.

Jacob goes home around eleven. I've taken all the blankets in a fifteen foot radius (which is a lot) and made myself into a burrito, and we're on This Is Gospel.

Annabelle leaves to go get into her pajamas. I don't move, because I'm rendered immobile from my blanket burrito.

Burrito is such a great word.

I say it over and over in my head and giggle at how it sounds.

"Did you get drunk off those cookies, or something?" I hear Annabelle ask sarcastically. I guess she has a good reason -- she came back into her living room to find her datemate wrapped up in ten or so blankets giggling about the word burrito.

"Can I have come coffee?" I ask her. No doubt she's rolling her eyes right now, but I don't really care. What she thinks. As long as it's about me.

This is why Jacob doesn't give me cookies.

I kick off the blankets, one by one. It takes a while, but after some time I can walk into the kitchen freely and jump up onto the counter.

Annabelle's standing next to the coffee maker, meticulously pouring water into a cup.

The first couple beats to Hometown come on and I slip right back down and grab Annabelle's hand. 

She pulls away for a second, just to press a button, then grabs my waist.

"Is this gonna be our song?" she asks. 

She leans down to press our foreheads together. 

Her shirt is so soft, and I can feel the warmth of her skin through it.

"Mmhmm," I answer. 

We sway for a while.

Where we're from, there's no sun

Our hometown's in the dark

I can feel her breath against my lips.

She's so warm and comforting.

She's home.

Our hometown's in the dark

Her hand rests on my cheek.

Put away, put away all the gods your father served today

I think of my father in this moment, and what he would say if he knew what I was about to do.

And then I'm not thinking of anything because suddenly I'm on my tiptoes and our lips have met.

And oh, why haven't I done this sooner?

Annabelle's lips are soft and warm and they have a faint taste of powdered sugar and almond and her hand is still on my cheek and she's pulling me closer and everything about her is so overwhelming but I still can't get enough.

My arms snake around her neck. 

She puts hers around my waist. 

I could stay like this forever.

We don't know, we don't know how to put back the power in our soul

All the tension in my muscles melts when we finally break apart. 

Her scent is surrounding me and the lingering flavor of almonds is in my mouth and her eyes -- oh, her beautiful eyes -- just look at me with the most fond gaze.

"I'd give you the moon right now," she says.

I think for a minute.

"But would you slay it for me?" I finally ask in response, my eyes twinkling.

"Marry me," she breathes. And with that, she's pulling me back in.

The only thing I can think of is how much I'd love for that to happen. Not now, of course. But in the future. We could have a quiet, tucked away house. Come home to each other every day. Wake up next to each other every day. Be in love with each other every day.

And any plan I had for my future seems that much duller when I don't include that prospect.

Annabelle's hands are warm through my shirt and her lips are intoxicating. I never want to stop kissing her.

Unfortunately, we're human and therefore need oxygen to survive. She reluctantly pulls away, and I follow suit with equal reluctance.

"I'd love to."

a/n: ...

also: the!!1! 1975!!!11!!! is!!1!!! releasing!1!! a!1!!! cover!!!!1!!!1!! tomorrow!!1!!1!! and!!!!!11!11! im!!1!!1 pumped!!!!!11!!!!

also also: almond amaretti cookies are amazing

also also also: legit i have so much work to be doing but if i don't take a break i'll have a break(down) so i'm writing fluff :)

also also also also: like the gif has nothing to do with anything but it is me currently