POV: Damian
Chocolate is surprisingly difficult to remove from your ears.
I'd showered twice.
Changed clothes.
Washed my hair.
Yet every so often, I caught the unmistakable scent of cocoa and questioned my entire existence.
Someone knocked on my apartment door.
"Come in."
The door opened just enough for Noah to peek inside.
The neighborhood basketball champion grinned.
"Mom made cookies."
He held up a round tin decorated with snowflakes.
"It's July," I said.
"We know."
"So why the Christmas tin?"
"It's the only one she could find."
"Fair."
He stepped inside and looked around.
"You really don't have much furniture."
"I'm still settling in."
"You need a beanbag."
"I do?"
"Every cool apartment has one."
"I'll... consider it."
He nodded solemnly.
"Excellent choice."
A
