Seven

Chapter 30

I feel hot. Too hot, much hotter than usual for the early morning. I'm still half asleep but shift in the bed in an attempt to find a cooler spot under the blankets. It's when I try move that I feel the heavy, heated weight holding me down onto the mattress. I blink my eyes open, the annoying morning light streams in through the useless netted curtains and burns my vulnerable gaze immediately. I wince and hold a hand up to shield the light from my eyes and look down at the sight in front of me.

I had almost forgotten he was here. Almost forgotten about Seven turning up in the early hours of the night. In all honesty I was half expecting it to be a dream, for him to be gone by the time I woke up. But here he is.

Tanned, strong arms wrapped around my hips, cheek pressed heavy in sleep against my sternum as soft snores fall past his parted lips. His weight is heavy but comforting as he uses me like a pillow, the warmth from his body against mine is what woke me up. For someone who has never spent the night with another and is not fond of things like cuddling, Seven seems to be rather comfortable intertwined with my body. Even his long legs are laid in a comfortable twist with mine.

Afraid to wake him and have this sweet moment with him ruined, I lay my head back down on my pillow to stare at the ceiling. My mind runs over the events from Seven's arrival and instantly my cheeks swell with blood.

We kissed.

We kissed a lot actually and it was more than I could have imagined it to be. The way he felt, the way my body reacted to the sensation of his mouth on mine is something I can't describe. I've never felt that way about kissing someone. I only hope it was just as nice for him as it was for me. Not only did we kiss last night but he told me his name.

Harry.

Such a normal, handsome name. A name given to him when he was so small and innocent. A name he now protects and forgets at the same time. A name that I now know. His request for me to call him by his real name while we're together tightens my stomach in the most delicious way. I just know he's never asked this of any other woman he's been with before.

The fact he wants to be Harry with me, while he kisses me, while we spend our secret fleeting time together gives me hope. Hope that he really listened to what I had said yesterday while we sat by the water in the sun. He's finding what small happiness he can with the cards he's been dealt. On the outside he must be Seven; hard, intimidating, confident, skeptical, demanding and dangerous. He needs to be what his uncle wants, what is expected of him and what he was raised to be.

But inside these walls, in private moments with me he can be Harry; caring, gentle, hesitant, soft, trusting and vulnerable. With me he can talk about the dreams he has for a different future. He can feel what it's like to care and be cared for by someone. He can share a bed with me and realise just how much he enjoys clinging to someone in his sleep.

For whatever reason he needs me, whether it be Seven or Harry, I'm his. I'm beginning to understand from the few days that have gone since his return (and probably the weeks he was absent also taught me) that my affections for him are running a little deeper then I had realised. I don't think this is just a crush anymore. It's not something I want to think too extensively about just yet, but I know it's there. Bubbling away quietly in my core.

I stare down at him still fast asleep over my stomach. His hair is so disheveled, falling over his forehead with stray bedraggled curls sticking up at the nape of his neck. My fingers twitch with the need to run my hands through the unkept curls. Wanting to feel those soft locks like I had last night.

Slowly and steadily I let my fingers run through the heavy curls at the back of his head. Seven doesn't stir, but his quiet snores stop to let out a tranquil sigh. I continue to rhythmically comb my finger through his hair as I gently coax him from his slumber.