Gone With The Wind

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The ice was broken after that. When the Chinese food containers were tossed in the trash, we turned on a movie. It was a VHS copy of Gone with the Wind. It had been a while since I had watched it, but it was a good movie. Settling back against the couch cushions with a blanket, I got ready for a long movie marathon. 

Despite the movie keeping my attention, my eyes began to grow heavy. I was comfortable, warm, and exhausted from the events of today. Yawning, I felt my eyes drifting shut and listened as the movie's audio slowly faded away. 

When I woke up, the movie was still going. By this point, Scarlett was running a business, judging by the sideways angle of the TV screen. At some point, I had laid down on a pillow. A lumpy pillow at that. 

Rolling over, I saw that I wasn't sleeping on a pillow, but Striker's lap. His head was tilted back and he was snoring slightly. Sitting up, I had to stifle a laugh. Normally, he looked so handsome and confident. Like this, he looked more relaxed and almost...comical. 

I got up and grabbed a blanket, covering Striker with it before slipping off to my bedroom. I gave him one last glance before closing the door, thinking how different he looked sleeping like that.

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