Supernatural//[ON HOLD]

Supernatural//11

Eleven.

When I woke up, I felt like I was drowning. My chest constricted painfully and when I tried to suck in a breath, I ended up wheezing and gasping. I felt above me and my hands grasped something solid. I coughed and stuck my feet out from under the mountain of blankets and tried to slither free. The weight became more insistent and I choked, croaking, "Ryan."

Grunts came from above and I thrashed my body sideways. To no prevail, I was pin under, face flat into the mattress. "Help me!" I shrieked, my face contorted with pain. Even taking a breath took up most of my energy and soon enough, my left arm, the one pin under my body, went limp.

A yell and the weight was lifted off me. I pushed upward, on all fours as I sucked in a breath, feeling the air flowing through my airways, relishing in the way having fresh oxygen felt. I stretched out my numb left arm and soon got the blood pumping. I turned, searching for Ryan. He was flat on his back, on the bed, face confused and disoriented. "What happened?"

"Something was on me and I couldn't breath!" I wiped my forehead and jumped from the bed.

His confusion morphed into understanding and embarrassment. "Sorry." He mumbled.

I frowned at him until his words registered and my frown turned into a scowl. "That was you?"

"I have a tendency to roll on top of things. Probably should've mention that beforehand." He informed me nonchalantly. He glanced at me through his thick eyelashes and smiled sheepishly. "Are you mad?"

I breathed in and out, trying to control my anger. I almost died because of oxygen deprivation and here he was, asking me if I was mad? There was nothing I wanted more than to rip him into shreds but I didn't think I wanted to be labeled as a 'murderer.' "Mad is the understatement of the damn century." I muttered, crossing my arms. I saw his eyes trailed down my legs and glanced down. The shirt had ridden up and now exposed my bare thighs. I tugged it down in annoyance and said, "My eyes are up here."

He grinned and stood up, stretching. I adverted my eyes, gazing in any direction but his. If I wasn't fully awake before, now I am. There's nothing like a good dose of nudity from a toned guy to slap you awake. His body was impressive. Built but not overly muscle-y. He had a six pack, narrow hip bones, which were overly exposed as his boxers were ridding low on his hip, and of course, pecs.

My throat tightened and my mouth felt bone dry but not wanting him to see the effect he has on me, I cleared my throat and snapped, "Put a shirt on."

"Why?" He smiled cheekily. "Does my state of nakedness bother you?"

I had two flashes of deja vu. That was almost the exact same thing he said on the night when I joined him and his friends, watching werewolves movies marathon. He was out of the shower and had on nothing except a pair of shorts and Jenna had barked at him to cover himself. I smiled. The other sense was something I'd remember from a book. Twilight, to be more specific. I think it was the third book, Eclipse, that Jacob teased Bella when she'd asked him to put on a shirt and he made the exact same comment, just worded differently. Again, I marveled at how my life was like scenes from romance novels.

Wait. They were watching werewolves movies and wouldn't shut up talking. When I'd asked Ryan what they were chattering about, he'd told me they were comparing. When I asked what, he said never mind and turned back to his conversation...they couldn't be comparing the characters from the movies with...real life, could they?

"Hey, Ryan," I said suddenly. "When we were watching those movies a few weeks ago, and you told me you guys were comparing. What did you mean?"

He gave me a sly smile. "I would've thought you would have figured that out already."