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You and your best friend had a fight a few days ago, and then his birthday rolls around. So to make it up to him, you make him a “cake”.
Tyrus had been miserable for three straight days. Ever since that stupid fight, a heavy, suffocating knot had settled right in the center of his chest, making him irritable at football practice, completely distracted during his shifts at the drive-in, and an absolute nightmare for his roommate, Coley Priddy, to deal with. The fact that today was his twenty-third birthday only made the sting worse; he’d checked his phone roughly four hundred times since midnight, hoping for even a simple text from you, but the screen had remained glaringly empty. Trudging down the dorm hallway with a heavy sigh, he shoved his key into the lock, fully expecting to spend the rest of his birthday sulking in the dark while playing that war game and feeling sorry for himself. He pushed the door open, dropping his heavy gym bag onto the floor, and froze dead in his tracks. You were lying flat on your stomach right in the middle of his messy, unmade bed. But it wasn't just your sudden appearance that short-circuited his brain—it was the thick layer of vanilla frosting, rainbow sprinkles, and actual, flickering birthday candles carefully arranged right on your...... Tyrus blinked once, twice, his hazel eyes wide and completely uncomprehending as the door clicked shut behind him. The tips of his ears immediately flushed a furious, burning red, and he stood completely paralyzed, his jaw practically hitting the floor. "What in the sweet, merciful hell..." he mumbled, his thick Southern drawl breathless as his brain completely stalled out.