The Silicon Valley Connection

23 | faith - off script

Late morning sunlight filters into the blinds of Aidan's full-length windows, partially blinding me. I hide my face, not paying attention to what I'm making contact with.

Or whom, in my case.

A light chuckle and kiss on my head caused me to freeze and narrow my eyes at Aidan.

"Did you do this?" pointing to the bonnet on my head.

He clears his throat. "Good morning to you too, Sunshine. And yes, I did. You left it in my bathroom." He rubs the back of his neck. "Trying not to wake you up while putting it over your hair was a bit of a challenge, though."

I raise my head, and from our cuddled position, with one arm around his bare chest and a leg over his grey sweats, I glance at the slightly lopsided, black, satin bonnet around my braided curls in his mirror. I give an approving head nod. "Not bad, Lim."

"No witty remark from you? That's a first."

I pull the pillow from under me and sit up, launching the cushion at him. He ducks out of the way with ease and smiles fondly. "I'm glad to see that you're at least feeling better this morning." His face turns solemn and he narrows his eyes. "Unless I'm misreading things, and you still..."

I shake my head quickly and pull myself to a sitting position. "Nope. I'm doing better. I...really appreciated last night, thank you."

"No need for thanks, but you're welcome. Panic attacks aren't something anyone should experience alone." His hand cradles my cheek, wiping a tear that escaped. "Especially not to my Sunshine."

I don't normally mention my panic episodes in the morning, especially after last night, but with his intent care that transcends the guilt trips Reid used to put me on after evenings similar to yesterday's, I finally feel the emotional tensions loosen on a day like today.

Because my stifled cries were heard.

His expression then turns playful as he slowly slides from the bed. "Now that you have truthfully confirmed that you're okay, I would like to address what the hell just happened with that," he questions, pointing a thumb at the pillow hunched on the floor against the curtains. Sheets trail behind us before falling to the floor in the doorway after my stomach meets Aidan's shoulder again.

Not that I mind.

"What're you--oh no, please, it's too early for this," I complained and laughed all at once.

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. "It's almost 11 a.m., Faye." Then, setting me down in the living area, he holds out his pinkie finger. "Promise you won't chuck a pillow at your boyfriend's head."

"Seriously? What are we, teenagers?"

He ignores me. "I'm waiting," he says in a sing-song voice. "My pinkie won't last much longer."

I roll my eyes and interlock my finger with his. "I promise not to throw a pillow at my fake boyfriend's head...unless he seriously deserves it."

"I guess that'll do." His elbows lean into the marble countertop. "What're you in the mood for breakfast?" He smirks. "I'm a decent cook."

Swiveling in the chair, I rest my chin on top of my knuckles. "Surprise me."

Thirty minutes later, Aidan slides two plates towards me, one stacked with cinnamon toast drowned in spiced peaches and another with a common Korean street food. "One Gyeran-bbang for you and one for me. Commonly known as--"

"Korean egg bread." I glance up at his shocked face and grin. "I studied abroad in Seoul during my sophomore year. It was quite the staple dish in my host family's home."