The Mute Reporter

22- Six Years Earlier

Samuel Winters

It was the next morning, and I had a hard time falling asleep. I'm pretty sure I stayed up all night.

Jensen's arms are wrapped around my waist, my back against his chest, his chin resting gently on my hair. My hands were in his hands.

He woke up at around 9. I could tell when he was awake became his breathing changed, and the first thing he did is press his lips against the top of my head again.

I guess he could tell I was also awake.

"Sam?" He whispers, and I squeeze one of his hands wrapped around my waist.

I feel him move his head up, and he peers over to check if my eyes are open.

When he sees that they are, he kisses my cheek, trailing to the back of my ear, and finally the crook of my neck.

"Good morning." He whispers again, his deep voice still groggy with sleep.

I turn my body around so I'm laying on my back, looking up at him. He moves his hands so he's now propping himself up with his elbow.

His other hand is playing with my white hair.

We lay like that for a good while. Just looking at each other. I admired him while he examined me.

"Did you sleep?"

I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to tell him. So I just stay still, looking at his dark eyes look around my face.

He has freckles. Very light. They blend in with his tan skin, but they are there. Hardly noticeable. It's cute.

I reach my hand up and lightly trace my fingers across the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks and temples.

He softly smiles, because he knows what I see.

"What's your favorite color?" He asks, still whispering. Afraid if he talks loud that he'll disturb a sense of peace in this room.

'It's recently changed to green.' I take my hand away from his face to tell him, and he breathes out a chuckle. 'What's your zodiac sign?'

He laughs. "You into astrology?"

I shake my hand a little, to tell him kinda.

"I'm a Leo. And you are a Taurus. It explains your beauty." He taps my nose lightly, and I scrunch it up playfully.

He continues tracing his fingers along my pale skin, and he stops suddenly at one of my eyes.

"You never answered my question when we first met."

'You were drunk when we first met.'

"No I mean the other time."

'I was asking the questions the other time.'

"Ok the third time. When it was us and the translator. When I wasn't being an asswipe."

I raise a brow. What question was he talking about?

Jensen frowns. "Did I give you the black eye?"

Oh.

That.

I shake my head.

His frown deepens, a crease now along his forehead.

"Who did? Who hurt you?"

'A lot of people hurt me Jensen.'

He sits up at that, at full attention.

"Who hit you? Don't try to tell me you got that black eye on accident."