Pierce wasn’t a morning person, but waking up beside the ocean made the ‘waking up’ process easier. He was a city boy and he found that he was happier with the hustle and bustle. Chicago was his favorite city in the world, New York a close second. He loved the idea that there were millions of people in one place, everyone with a different story and a different way to go. The sunlight beamed through his window, and for a moment, he forgot he wasn’t in the city anymore. To add to the cheeriness of the morning, he surprisingly didn’t have a hangover. He stretched, reaching his arms over his head – a morning ritual of his – before getting out of bed. If he knew any better, he would’ve sworn he hadn’t stopped smiling since he kissed Bexley on the pier last night. It didn’t feel rushed, forced or uncomfortable – it felt right, and he was more than excited to see her again.
After brushing his teeth, fixing (or more like tossing his hair around and letting it fall where it pleased), and getting dressed, Pierce bounded off of his porch and down the path to Bexley’s place. He didn’t bother checking up on his family. They were either sleeping or out somewhere, more than likely arguing about what to eat for breakfast. Either way, it didn’t matter to Pierce. He had his sights set on seeing Bex, and even a phone call from his dad wouldn’t pull him away this time.
Pierce knocked on the front door of Bexley’s ‘home’ three times. He had a thing where he always had to knock three times, the second two knocks closer together than the first. There was a doorbell to ring, but he always preferred knocking. He paced the area of the front porch, humming to himself as he awaited Bexley’s answer. When the door open, he couldn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips. “Morning, sunshine.” he cheered, waving his hand at her.