memories.

She walks towards their spot, nervously drumming her fingers on her denim covered thighs. 'Their' spot was a rarely used playground they had found one night while aimlessly wandering around the city.

That night they had walked hand in hand for miles, discussing every topic that came to them. She had felt safe and happy with Alan, but now she was alone. A car speeds by and she jumps back onto the sidewalk, trying to stifle the shriek that threatened to bubble past her lips.

Older relatives warnings and every Law & Order: SVU episode she had ever seen begin to do laps around her frightened brain and she clutches her sleek phone just a little bit tighter.

When she finally spots Alan’s bright head of hair she almost sighs in relief. His back is to her and she really can’t resist the perfect opportunity to scare him.

“Boo,” she whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder. He jumps a foot in the air, swiveling around on the swing to face her. “You scared me!” He scolds, pulling her to sit in his lap.

“That was kind of the point.” He rolls his eyes before tugging her a bit closer to his warm embrace, his face suddenly contorted by guilt.

“I’m sorry for what I said.” Her shoulders sag in relief. She had honestly been afraid that that may have been the fight that ended the relationship they had, but thankfully she was wrong. Wow, she's never been thankful for being wrong before.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that - you were only trying to help me.”

She rests my head on his chest, so happy that they had survived their first real fight. Sure, they had playful little fights all the time over things like which ice cream to buy or what movie to watch first, but nothing of actual value.

“It was still my fault,” he softly argues, “I shouldn’t have pushed you so far.” She pulls away from his arms to give him a you-have-to-be-kidding look.

“Alan, stop. Let’s just say we were both asses and that it’s now over and done with.” He chuckles quietly wrapping his arms around her.

“Whatever you say, dear.”

“We are not cooking chocolate cake!” She argues, placing her hands on her hips as she and Alan block the aisle of the super market.

“Yes, we are.” He insists as he tosses the box of cake mix back in the shopping basket.

“No, we aren’t,” She grabs the cardboard box and place it back on the shelf. He goes for it again, but she moves to block him, an impish grin slipping onto her face as he becomes frustrated.

“But I don’t want vanilla!” He complains, going as far as to stomp his foot on the ground. “Vanilla cake is so boring!”

“No, it’s not. And besides, I’m the one cooking it so I get to decide.” His bottom lip sticks slightly out as she grabs a box of vanilla cake mix and tosses it in the basket before pushing it farther down the aisle.

She sees Alan chunk a box of chocolate mix in the basket when he thinks she's looking at the prices of coffee, but she twirls on her heel to face him, a finger pointing in his direction.

“I saw that, mister.” He shrugs, a Cheshire cat like grin becoming more and more apparent.

“You said that since you were cooking it, you got to choose. So I’ll just make my own cake.”

She raises an eyebrow, skeptical. Alan can’t cook for his life. The last time he tried to make her breakfast in bed, he had burnt the toast to a point where the fire alarms in the apartment had started going off.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he insists, gesturing his hands in a way so that he resembled a used car salesman. “Alan can’t cook,” he says, impersonating her voice. “But that, my darling, is where you’re wrong. Cole’s been teaching me.”

She rolls her eyes. Ah yes, Cole, the insufferable bastard. He had become more and more sappy as every day came closer to the day where Ashley would return from her tour. It had gotten to the point where he started drawing her name in different fonts and then circling them with tiny hearts in his spare time. It was that bad.

“Whatever, Alan. Just try not to catch the apartment on fire, okay?” He scoffs, waving her worries away with his hand.

“Your faith in me is rather lacking, babe.”

"So the fire started because you forgot the cake in the oven?” The firefighter questions., confused.

“Ah, um, yes.” Alan blushes slightly, remembering the events that had made them forget the cake was still baking.

“You’re lucky no one got hurt,” the firefighter scolds, shaking his head. He mutters something like ‘stupid kids’ as he walks away.

“You’re such an idiot.” She whines, whacking him on the chest. She sighs deeply as she glances around the ruined apartment. The kitchen was far beyond repair, and most of her things in the living room were damaged.

Apparently almost all of her fire alarms batteries had died around a month or so ago, not to my notice.

“Where am I gonna stay?” Alan throws an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. “You can stay with me and the guys! It’ll be fun.”

Oh goodie.

Notes

So I'm going back and changing all the chapters to first person. Wish me luck, because it isn't really all that fun. I won't be updating the next three days because I'm going to be out of town for All State Honor Choir. Love y'all! :))