I nod and hug him before he leaves. Once he is gone, I so upstairs and shower. I dry my hair and change into warm pajamas and plop into bed, soon falling asleep.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
I try to hurry home, drenched when I do. Without stepping on the carpet, I walk upstairs and hop into the shower. Once warm, I step out and change. I lie down under the covers but still shiver, sniffling a little. I close my eyes and quickly fall asleep.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I wake up the next morning warm and happy. I change into something cute and walk over to Elijah's house. I knock a few times, but he does not come to the door. I decide to walk in. I go to his room and find him asleep. I lay down beside him and kiss his cheek.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
I wake to a kiss to my cheek, but feel horrible. My throat hurts, my chest is tight, and my head feels like it's going to implode. Opening my eyes, I blink a few times before finding Alexis there.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
Once I finish making him some soup, I fix him some soup and head back upstairs. I grad a spoon and some juice and head upstairs. I sit on the bed with him and give him his soup.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
"Okay." I say. "I will go call." I walk over to the phone and dial the number from memory. I give them his name and information. I thank them and hang up. He eats most of his soup and put it on the table. I walk over to him and sit next to him in the bed. "We will go in thirty minutes." I say to him.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind. — Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind