Eric's POV:

"Okay; coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, definitely."

"Nope, tea. Tea is infinitely better," I argue, looking up at Finn's face from my position with my head on his lap on our couch. "Who wants to wake up in the morning and drink fucking dirt beans?" I scrunch my nose.

Finn's mouth drops open. "Dirt beans? Really? That is the most atrocious, outlandish, flabbergasting thing I have ever heard. What the actual hell?"

"You cannot tell me that isn't what they taste like!"

"What the fuck? I just- I can't get over the fact- DIRT BEANS?" He covers my eyes with his hand, and I protest silently, trying to remove it to no avail. "That's it, Eric. We're over. No more. I will not tolerate your bullshit any longer." He removes his hand from my eyes so I can see him shake his head in disappointment.

"You're such a drama queen. Are you saying you don't like tea? Who doesn't like tea?"

"Of course I like tea, but I'm not going to directly shit on it. What, did you want me to tell you to stop drinking your leaf soup? Because I can tell you that. I personally think that my 'dirt beans' are better than the leaves you stick in your morning cup of tea."

"Now how does that make sense? Leaves are refreshing, and you cannot tell me you didn't eat them when you were younger and think they were" the bomb"." I raise my eyebrows skeptically.

"The- You did what when you were younger? What kind of leaf monster are you? Do you have an addiction that I should know about?"

"That's enough, that's enough," I say, laughing. "I yield. You win. I refuse to admit what kind of deranged child I was."

"You were that bad? Well now I have to know!"

I raise my arms to make an "x" shape, shaking my head with a smile. Finn grabs my wrists and tries to pry them apart to see my face, and I intentionally cover my face with my hands now. Eventually, he manages to remove my hands and hold them on either side of my face. He grins down at me and leans down to give me a quick peck on the lips.

"You're such a freak," I say as I attempt to free my wrists.

After our first date, we came back to our dorm and sat down on the couch together, where we sat in silence for a while. I was scrolling on my phone and I saw a post about how most couples nowadays don't know anything about each other, and I got all paranoid and complained to Finn about it, and he laughed and asked me which I preferred, sunsets or sunrises, to which I called him strange. I then asked him which he preferred, coffee or tea; and here we are now.

"Alright, what's your favorite color?"

"Oh, hey, I love this question!" I pause to grin at him. "It's #FF451E"

"Did you actually just give me the fucking hex number for your favorite color? Who does that?" He laughs, which I love.

"Look, people like specifics." I shrug. "Now you know exactly what it is, and you know to what extent I like the color."

"Apparently enough to learn the fucking hex code," he observes.

I squint at him. "And?"

"And nothing," he says, raising his arms.

I raise one of my own arms to give him a high five. He high-fives me back, laughing.

"You must be tired," he says.

"What makes you think that?"

"When you're tired, you either get hella hyper or really sleepy and submissive. I've noticed a pattern."

"Oh my gosh, my crush notices me? I'm so embarrassed. Wait, sleepy and what-"

"Alright, get up. We're going to bed."

Finn lifts my head off his lap (to my dismay), and hoists himself up, then grabs my hands and pulls me up from the couch.

"Alright, maybe I'm a little tired." I admit. "But I don't want to sleep. I want to hang out with you."

"I hope you know that we are both roommates and dating, so you are able to hang out with me and sleep at the same time. It's a win-win."

"Sure, sure.Take me to bed, then."

"Yes, your royal brattiness." He rolls his eyes and lifts me off the ground, which I wasn't exactly prepared for.

I rest my head on his shoulder and sigh. "Maybe I am tired after all."

Finn doesn't say anything, but I know he hears me. I know he's listening. He stops at the beginning of the hallway where our bedrooms are.

"Do you have a room preference? Or can I pick?"

"Don't care," I mumble.

"Ooh, touchy." Finn's pretending to be offended.

"You'll see just how touchy I can get when we get in there." I say.

"Whoa there, buddy. That's a little gay, don't you think? After all, we're just friends." He sneers.

"Well, now I'm really going to touch you."

"Wild. You are wild for that."

"You'll see just how-"

"Oh my gosh, I get it," he laughs. "And no, I will not be seeing anything, because you're going to be sleeping, remember?"

"Woooow, what does it say about me that my own boyfriend doesn't want to bang?" I say, now obviously kidding.

"Maybe that you're mental and overdramatic, but that's just my two cents."

"Nobody says that anymore." I say, trying to hold back my laughter.

"You literally told me something was the "bomb"."

When he gets to the door, he struggles a bit with the doorknob, but he eventually gets it open. He walks into his room and tosses me carelessly onto the bed.

"Domestic abuse," I groan. "I'm being abused."

"Oh, shut up, or I'll show you some real abuse." Finn says.

"I wish I could tell if you meant that in a 'I'm so sexy' way, or a 'I'll beat you to death with a metal pipe' way." I laugh. "Oh no. I didn't shut up. Guess I'm about to find out."

"Better find my metal pipe." Finn grins.

I grin back. Bantering like this is the best. The greatest thing about dating is having someone that you can be best friends with. It's epic.

Finn sits on the edge of the bed and stares at me.

"What do you want?" I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Many things," he shrugs. "But right now I'm waiting for you to go to sleep."

"And you expect me to do so with you looming over me? What are you going to do to me once I'm asleep, you creep?"

"I don't know, kill you? What do you think I'm gonna do?" He sighs.

"Fair. But stop staring at me. It's giving me performance anxiety."

He laughs and then lays down next to me.

"What if I stared at you from here?" He teases.

"I'll stare right back, and then neither of us will get any sleep." I try to shrug, but my effort is in vain since I'm laying down.

Finn grabs my hand, brings it to his face, and kisses it. "Go to sleep, shithead."

"How romantic."