Not Today | ✔️

Chapter Thirteen.

"I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you..."

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It was too warm.

That was the first thing Evelyn realized when she woke up in the morning and she was quick to realize that there were a few reasons for that.

One, she had her comforter securely over her, trapping all the heat in.

Two, she had her cardigan on, the cotton sleeves only contributing to the warmth of the comforter.

And three? Tristan's strong arm was wrapped securely over her waist, her back pressed close against his front, close enough that she felt his harder muscles in extreme detail, her softer, pliable body molding to them. She felt the soft, steady puffs of his breath against her skin and the featherlight, warm feeling of his lips pressed against her neck, too. She even noticed that her shirt had ridden up ever so slightly, his fingertips splayed across the small sliver of bare skin between the waistband of her shorts and the hem of her pushed-up shirt.

She wasn't sure how to get out of this position.

Literally.

Evelyn tried to shift, doing her best to be released from Tristan's hold, but not wake him up in the process. It was futile, though, as she felt his arm tighten and his face nuzzle into her neck.

What was she to do here?

Evelyn took a deep breath, deciding she would try to turn around, that way she could shake him awake, since she clearly couldn't manage escaping from his arms, given her previous attempts. After a few seconds, Evelyn managed to turn around, so they were face to face, their knees touching ever-so-slightly.

At such a startling proximity, Evelyn couldn't help but stare at Tristan's peaceful features. In some certain way, it reminded Evelyn of the day she'd first seen Tristan outside of a harsh, fluorescent light and instead in the warmer light of her bedroom, as if seeing the physical manifestation of his softer side, in contrast to his colder side, which was most prevalent in the places with harsh lighting.

Here, it was the same, as if another layer of ice had fallen, uncovering an even softer side. His strong facial structure looked softer, the furrow between his oddly perfect eyebrows was nowhere to be found and his lips weren't tilted downward in a common frown. She'd never seen him asleep before, as he was always awake before her, even though she'd always been an early riser herself.

She found her point of focus kept drifting back to two things, his hair, messily pressed against the pillow and falling over his forehead in cursive curls, each one seeming to contribute to the metaphorical spelling of one word; adorable. And, she also found herself focusing on his eyes, the way his long, dark lashes brushed against the dusting of freckles under his eyes, reminding her slightly of the gentle strokes of a paintbrush against a canvas. She was so focused on his eyes that, when they opened, she was mildly startled, not expecting it.

For a moment, he just blinked slowly and furrowed his eyebrows, as if slightly confused.

"What're you doing?" he asked, his words melting together, slightly, from sleepiness, and his voice deeper than usual.

"Just being held prisoner, you?" she joked, gesturing to his arm around her, trying to ignore her initial instinct, which was to play dead like she was a threatened opossum.

Tristan looked down to where she gestured with her head, immediately pulling his arm away, as if he got burned, and sitting up as he mumbled a quiet sorry, his cheeks beginning to resemble that of a pink rose petal; soft, delicate, and painted an unmistakable rosy hue.