Smells like chocolate...

Was the only thing that came to his mind as he lounged lazily at his desk.
It was the way many of his nights were spent lately, and he chalked it up to insomnia every time. He knew it wasn't the truth, but that wouldn't change the stories he told his friends. Letting his eyes drop low, he noticed the slightly metallic grey of his desk's paint blending subtly with the dulled shade of blue attached to his old blue jeans. Frowning, he reached forwards with his unoccupied right hand, scraping his nail across the off-white stain beside his right pocket. His jagged half-chewed nails caught uncomfortably in the threads of his jeans and he decided to let the mark stay where it was; he'd clean the jeans later.
He did lots of things 'later'. Later he was going to get a job, later he was going to hang out with his girlfriend, later he was going to clean the kitchen. In fact, later on he planned to sort his life and move out.
Everything he planned to do was set for 'later'. Later hadn't come yet.
Reaching up, he ruffled his brown hair, unkempt and unwashed, until it settled into a comfortable place on his head. Despite the seemingly trashy way he carried himself, he was a rather good looking young man, washed or not. Yawning a little, he turned his attention back to the only glow of light in the dimly lit living room of his parent's house.
The LCD's of his outdated laptop flickered occasionally when he jostled the desk before him. Not that he'd have wanted to touch the desk, considering it was steel and the winter's chill lurked in every corner of this unwelcome abode. The image that had formed on the monitor was that of a blank page. Obviously, he was going to be writing later too.
There it was again. That faint scent of chocolate filled his senses as he watched the clock change to 1:39, A.M of course.
Snapped from his momentary lapse of thought, he closed his eyes. Deep brown eyes which hinted intelligence and a certain kind of patience that only displayed itself to those who were willing to speak to him in person. He let his hearing take over, his thoughts drifting away from the chocolate for now. Hayley sung her heart out beside him, coming quietly out of the speakers beside him. Strange, he wasn't a huge fan of Paramore, but he didn't like to mention that in public. Lots of people loved them, his girlfriend included. He could bare them, but after a couple of minutes he got tired of the sound.
Not just chocolate, dark chocolate. Warmed up just enough to melt and mix up nicely with milk, only this flavor was deeper. It wasn't quite milk.
Opening his eyes, he recapped the Sunday he'd just left behind an hour or so ago. Such a strange thing Sunday. Its like a weekend but at the same time, its the beginning of a new week so should we enjoy it or prepare for work instead. Judging by his personal experience with Sundays, this young man used them strictly for entertainment. Kind of a last hurray that couldn't be fit into a glorious Saturday.
Stopping for a moment, he tilted his head as he pulled the coffee mug to his lips once again and took a sip. Not quite a strong flavor luckily, however it didn't have quite enough of that chocolate flavor to it to keep him focused on the coffee and away from the day.
At this rate, 'later' was going to be sooner.
Eying his empty coffee mug, he debated on whether or not to fill it up again. Smirking a little, he shrugged it off and placed his hands on the keyboard.

He'd hang out with her later, but tonight he'd give her a peice of his mind.
Tonight, he'd tell her that his coffee reminded him of Hot Chocolate before Christmas. Of a little red truck that was more than enough to get him around. Of a sunrise that reminded him of real life and not a movie or a book; a cloud covered sunrise that beat any perfect sunrise he'd ever read about.
Of 15 minutes he took to think about how he really looked at that moment so she could get another taste of the little world that held him tightly when he wasn't hiding in her arms.