Skinny Jeans

I woke up that morning to the strumming of a guitar and an empty bed. I sat there for a while, listening to the music, stopping every couple of seconds before it picked up again. It was playing the same line over and over again, just a little different each time. I rubbed my eyes and stumbled out to the living room where John sat shirtless on my couch with a pen and a notebook in front of him, and an acoustic guitar strapped across his back. I stood there for a few more minutes, watching him.

"How did you find my guitar?" I asked him, making him jump.
He quickly closed the notebook and turned around.
"The closet. When you got your shoes out of it the other day, I saw it behind your coats." he smiled, setting it against the couch and getting up.
"What are you doing?" I asked, walking to the kitchen.
He got up and followed me, sitting down on a kitchen stool.
"Nosy much? Nothing. Just jotting something down." he flashed me that crooked smile and I rolled my eyes, turning to get a water bottle from my fridge.
"Are you hungry?" I asked him, turning back around and snapping the cap off. I took a drink, letting the cool water run down my dry throat. I always woke up with a dry mouth. I hated it so much.
"Starving. But, breakfast should be here in about 10 minutes." he grinned.
"Be here?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and replacing the cap on the bottle.
"I ordered us breakfast." he smiled, proud of himself.
"Thank you baby." I leaned over the counter and kissed his cheek.
"No problem."
"I'm too lazy to cook, and I need to go to the store, and I'm too lazy to do that too." I sighed, walking around the table and sitting next to John, setting the bottle behind me.
"There's a fireworks show in Chandler tonight." he said, wrapping his arm around my waist.
"Uh, we are going. Duh." I smiled.
"Fireworks were always your favorite thing in high school. Every single time they did fireworks in Chandler, you were the first one there, always making sure you got the best seat." he smiled, remembering.
I was gathering up the courage to ask him something I had been thinking about for the past few days.
"John?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, I was won-"
The doorbell cut me off and John shot up, running to the door.
"Food is here!" he called from the living room.

He came back into the kitchen holding a bag, grinning.
"Let's get our grub on, baby!" he set it down on the table and pulled out our food, handing me my box. I opened it up. Corned beef hash, hash browns, and toast. One of my favorite things for breakfast. It still astounded me that he remembered all of these little things about me.
He sat down next to me, opening his box and chowing down.
"What were you saying?" he asked through a mouthful of eggs.
"Well..." I started, nervous. I didn't know how this was going to go.
"Yessss?" he grinned at me, making me blush.
"Since you're here every single day, why don't you just move in? I have extra closet and dresser space, a-a-and," I stuttered, "it would be a pleasure to share my living space with you."
I took a bite of corned beef, waiting for his response.
He sat there silent for a while, eating his food and ignoring my question.
"John?" I asked, suddenly regretting opening my mouth.
He continued to ignore me, stuffing more and more food down his throat.
"The word no doesn't hurt my feelings, John..." I looked down at my fork and shoved some more corned beef in my mouth.
"It's not that." he finally said.
"What is it then?"
"It's a little bit more complicated than that." he sighed, taking a sip of my water.
"Like how? You're here every single day. You know where all of my things are. This place is bigger than yours too, so it would be big enough for both of us." I said quickly, wanting to slap myself for even saying anything.
"Christine, I'm not saying I don't want to move in with you. I was going to tell you this tonight." he ran his hands through his hair, sighing.
"What?"
"We're going on tour in a few days." he blurted out, taking another sip of my water.
I sat there quiet for a second.
"What?" I repeated, suddenly not hungry at all.