Amber arrived at his studio-slash-dorm with the groceries that they needed for her weekend sleepover.

Henry didn’t notice Amber’s arrival and grunting, complaining how his building never had elevators.

Amber saw him tapping his foot as he hummed the tune of the song he was composing, strumming the chords he had written on his notepad a while ago, too engrossed in what he was doing; his eyes were even closed.

She forced herself not to laugh, standing in front of him; her face just inches away from his. She almost fell down, surprised; thank goodness he was quick enough to hold onto her arms as he kissed her on the lips. And that simple kiss caused them to forget whatever they need to be doing.

Later that night, he posted his newly composed song on his online account.

“You recorded that video of your song, wearing that.”  She laughed, talking about the fact that he recorded the video wearing a zipped up hoodie and he was in his boxers. “At least you decided to only show your hoodie as you play the guitar.”

“I am forced to be in my boxers since as I was looking for my shorts, I found out that you were wearing them. The only thing I could find was your hoodie that ended up just laying their on the floor.”

“Give me back my hoodie.” Amber covered her shoulders since she was wearing a wife beater, and hid the strap of her bra.

“Give me back my shorts.” He answered back.

“Fine,” Amber then removed the shorts she was wearing, “there! Happy now?” giving him back his shorts, and removed the hoodie he was wearing. “Finally, I got my hoodie back,” She commented, wearing it, seemed comfortable walking the apartment in her underwear.

-x-