Ineffable

53 | I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE

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Iris

I stir awake, totally disoriented, in the dark. It takes me a while to recognize the white bedsheets and the weight of a head on the crook of my neck and an arm around my hip.

Right.

I am in Noah's room, have worn Noah's clothes and Noah's (half-naked) body is tangled with mine. Also, my heart is almost a skin way to burst out of my chest.

Damn, it should be a crime to wake up this flustered.

I stretch my arm to tap my phone, after turning on the bed light. 6:41 am. This explains the darkness but seriously, why am I awake at this ungodly hour? I stifle a groan, not wanting to wake up Noah.

I shift a bit to look at him. This is probably the first time I have seen him asleep; he always wakes up before me. The soft bed light brushes upon his skin and I can't help but smile at how peaceful and angelic he looks.

Long hair strands fall upon his forehead, trying to hide the faint scar. The light freckles seem to be sprinkled like paint on the olive skin of his nose. Slowly, my gaze slide from his sharp yet crooked nose to the naturally nude lips with a tinge of pink on the bottom lip.

He looks really, really adorable. I can hear him disagreeing with me in my mind, but I do not care.

Last night was probably one of the best nights of my life. Even though it has been some hours, my lips are still tingling with the sensation I'd felt, remembering the kiss. And all I can remember that it would have been just a heavenly way to die—just with his lips on mine.

Unable to control myself, I reach out to touch the subtle cheekbones under his eyes. I smile when he stirs but also, tightens his hold around me. My heart clenches at the action but I continue my torture since it feels so satisfying.

"Bella," His voice comes out a bit rasped yet velvety. I pause as his eyes flicker open to meet mine.

"What are you doing?" He asks, lifting his head, but I put it down, quickly. He lets out a laugh and pulls me closer to his chest as if there is any space left.

I mutter, "You should go back to sleep."

"Mmm, you smell like me," he says instead, kissing my collarbone.

"Noah" I gasp, putting my hands on my face, and he laughs. I push him away and he groans, stretching his arms to look at the time on his phone.

He, then, murmurs, "It's fucking blurry."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, because you don't wear the glasses—it's like you want to destroy your vision."

"They are reading glasses with minimal power," he tells me, dryly, and gets his phone.

"That's what Mom said before—and now she cannot see anything near without glasses."

"It doesn't work—" He pauses, blinking at his phone. He looks at me, trying to control his expression. "Bella, my darling, why are you awake at this insane hour?"

"You are not the only one with weird sleeping habits, okay?" I say back—kind of offended.

He lets out a hearty laugh. "Trust me, I know that. Last night, you kept on murmuring and turning around—I think I had to stop you from falling for almost three times."

"Oh my god," I groan, turning away. "I cannot help it!"

His arm wraps around my waist and with minimal effort, pulls me towards him as my back collides against his chest. As weird it sounds, I feel a lot safe like the money in a very protected locker.