Amber, I want you. I love you.

                                                                                       How deep is your love, Snoopy?

                                                                                                            40%

Henry’s apartment.

Amber spends too much time there lately. She has even stopped bumping into furniture corners. 

“It’s dinner time”, Gen says.

She fakes an attempt to cook for them. Henry is in teasing mode. He doesn’t immediately reject the offer.

She panics.

He can’t bear torturing her for long. He caves.

“Where is your guitar?” Gen asks her.

“This is my guitar now. Henry gave me his for my birthday.”

“Wasn’t his present those sneakers you liked? You went nuts over them that night.”

“That was my second present.” She casually says.

He doesn’t respond.

She turns to look at him.

“Shut up!” she cries, catching upon her friend’s suggestive stare.

“I said nothing!” Gen chuckles.

“Can you play that melody again?” she asks him.

“Which one?”

“The one you played a minute ago…Right! This one!”

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                      

“Let me tried it too.”  she tells him.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    

“What are you guys playing? It sounds good!” Henry interrupts. They both look at him in surprise.

“Why are you not in the kitchen? I’m hungry!” Amber protests.

“Dinner’s cooking, I have it under control! Play it again!”

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    

“Hmm..it needs lyrics.” he ponders. “Let’s see..”

His eyes on her.

“I want you, I love you, give me a chance, Amber Liu…I wanna hold you, I wanna love you..”, he sings following the guitar’s sound.

Gen face-palms.

Amber blushes and lets out a nervous laugh.

Henry begins singing his newly-found lyrics again acapella this time. She covers his mouth before he reaches the Amber Liu part.

They stare at each other.

Gen enters third-wheeling mode.

“What? I think they’re perfect!” he tells them and continues, “..to hold you, to hold you..”

Gen is dying.

“They’re cheesy, you Cheese McCheeserman!”, Amber scoffs.

(Her heart races.) “We aren’t using them.” (More racing.)

Henry pouts.

Hours Later.

Night time.

Henry reaches for the glass on his bed-side. “Half empty.” he thinks.

He drags himself to the kitchen. He takes a peek of Amber sleeping on his living room couch. He tip toes to her direction and sits on the floor as near to her as possible. One strap of her top has slipped down her arm. He embarks to lift it up her shoulder.

 He doesn’t.

“Cheesy, but I wonder all the time.” he whispers, ghosting a hand over hers. “I wish you could hear the sound of my heart, Amber.” he says, almost mouthing his words.

He stares at her and then on the floor. He eventually pushes himself up.

She opens her eyes in the dark room. She hugs herself. She has to use some great willpower not to barge into his room that night.