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MARCH 2nd, 1997
When I wake up, she's on top of me.
I don't really remember moving, but I guess we did, or I did, before falling asleep, because I'm sprawled out across the sofa. It's far too small for me, my legs hanging over one of the arms and my back hurting slightly. The other arm is functioning as a pillow for me, and the loose spring in one of the cushions is jabbing into my thigh, not to mention the slightly off smell of the fabric of the sofa, but I can't bring myself to cafe.
I haven't slept this well in a while.
She's on top of me, using me the way I use the sofa. Her legs are still straddling my hips, and her arms and wrapped loosely around my neck, and her head is resting the side of her face on my chest right over my heart beat. One of my arms is slung around her waist, the other resting on her back with my hand cupping the back of her neck. Her tight curls are scratching and tickling at my neck and face, but I ignore it. My eyes still shut, I inhale deeply, taking in that bitter blackberry mixed with vanilla and walnut.
What the fuck do I do now?
I almost groan at the thought of everything that happened before we fall asleep. The way she was kissing me, the way she was getting herself off on my thigh and my hand, the way she froze, the way she froze because of me and what I did. It only took one step into her head to see just how confused she was, just how scared she was of me. Is of me.
And then she climbed onto my lap and buried her face in my neck and made me come in my bloody trousers like I'm a second year that's just had his first wet dream.
My face burns at the thought. It's quite a blow to my ego.
I at least manage to cast two quick Drying and Cleaning Charms on myself before falling asleep. How did I fall asleep? It wasn't even late at night—it was hardly five or six, if anything.
Lazily, I peel my eyes open and lift my left wrist up so I can see my watch. It lights up at the movement, telling me it's 1:27 A.M. So I slept for eight hours. I can't remember the last time I slept for that long.
Celeste inhales loudly, and I tense up.
I haven't woken her, have I?
Her arms slowly draw back from around my neck, crossing on top of my chest while her head lifts and drops her cheek onto them to use as a pillow. I glance down at her, seeing her eyes still shut and the side of her face slightly smushed against her arms. Her plump lips are a little parted and wet, slightly swollen from kissing me too hard.
