138 Perfect

　　A faint noise jolts me awake. I peel one eye open and stare at the ceiling. Where am I? I don’t have a portrait in my room. I yawn again. Everything is foggy till the memories from last night rush back in.

　　Our house.

　　My room. 

　　We have our own house! 

　　I straighten up and press a hand to Ben’s side of the bed. It is still warm. I hear it again, the sounds of metal hitting metal. I grab Ben’s shirt and button it halfway to my chest. The bathroom is my next stop. I finish my business and splash water on my face.

　　On tiptoes, I navigate to the kitchen. The door is open. Ben doesn’t hear me come in. I doubt he can hear anything over the music playing in his ears. He is cute, cooking and dancing. Closing the distance, I slide my arms around his waist from behind.