Before you knew

43. Could be worse.

My mind wakes up, but my eyes refuse to open. I hum and the comfortable warmth I find myself in. I let out a deep breath before wanting to move to lay on my back, me I lean against something when I move a little. I blink my eyes open, heavy and painful at the light that comes through the window. Now the sound of the rain tapping on the window reaches me. Waking up more and more and getting more aware of where I am and what's happening, I feel something against me. I scoot forward while laying on my side to make room to turn around. When I do I find Clay close to me, my arm against his as he lays on his side, facing me. My face heats up a little as his hand now lays on my stomach, seeing how I turned to lay on my back.

He's sound asleep, his shoulders moving the slightest bit as he breathes in and out. His soft blond hair all mussed up. His hand twitches and he gets a slight frown on his face before he grabs me and pulls me into him.

I blush even harder as I'm now flush against him. 'Clay?' I ask softly. No response. He's cuddling me in his sleep. God help me. I cover my face with my hands. He's so much bigger then me. I look at my waist next to his and see that it's at least three inches higher, let's not even mention his shoulders. His feet reach the end of the bed, while mine are a fair distance away from it. His one hand covers the small of my back completely. I huff and try to move away from him, but his hold tightens a little as he moves closer, not that I mind. His chin resting on my head. His scent and warmth make me relax as he keeps me close to him.

I smile to myself. Whenever he like, gets close to me, or hugs me, he is so careful to make sure I'm okay with it. He asks and still is very careful whenever I let him. When he's asleep it's different. Still gentle, but much more needed. He holds me close and then in place. There's no asking because he's asleep, and he seems peaceful and happy. His hands still gentle, but firm. Maybe he doesn't even realize what he's doing.

I remember that one time where he came downstairs, pouting as he let himself fall down on the couch next to me. I asked him what was going on and he answered 'I need some love and care.' The pout on his face made me laugh at his words, but I guess he kind of meant it. He's very gentle with others. And very caring. But I guess he doesn't get back as much as he gives.

He lets out a small sound, his arm moving a little. I place my cold fingers against his warm chests and lay my head against him. I guess this could be worse. He could be worse.

I notice the goofy smile on my face and try to get it away, but my smile grows.
This all could have been worse.