Personal Narrative

Words: 494
Pages: 2

The soft, early morning light filtered through my curtains, casting a cool, blue glow over everything. The late winter cold permeated the windows and curled around our bodies, making her subconsciously pull me closer to her.
Her hair formed a tangled halo around her head. I smiled to myself. I adored watching her sleep. I think watching her sleep on the train ride back from our high school history field trip is what truly encapsulated me. I had been admiring at her restless eyes moving back and forth beneath her lids before my friend snapped me out of my stupor, telling me that I had been staring and that it was mildly disconcerting. I was infatuated since.
“What are you smirking at?” she said, her voice muffled. Her hands struggled under the knotted sheets before they met mine. She squinted in the daylight as her eyes adjusted to
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“Now, what will my wonderful significant other have planned on this fine, mid-February morning?” She asked, peering up at me.
“Guess.” I said slyly, a smile playing on my lips.
“Hmm. Any thorny plants involved? Or perhaps a battery-powered LED candlelit dinner?” She mused. She rolled over in the bed and pried the sheets away from her body. “Maybe, a sappy, low-budget film about absolutely nothing!” She exclaimed, oozing sarcasm.
“Not quite,” I replied, barely stifling my snickers.
She went to the bathroom and started getting ready. “Oh! I know,” she called out. Her head peeked out from the bathroom door. The blue toothbrush poking out of her mouth distorted her voice, “We’ll stuff our faces with chalk candy and stale sweets!” She went back to the bathroom and finished washing before she came back out. “Okay, I get it. This is going to be some big, extravagant surprise and I can’t know what is.” She skipped to the closest and started pulling garments of their hangers. “Casual or formal? Or semi-formal?” She turned to look at me, her voice pleading, “Will you at least tell me what the dress code