Smoke And Mirrors

•Six•

I woke up to my phone ringing from the ground next to the bed. I deeply stretch, arching my back as I sat up. The covers fell off my torso—I was naked. I pull the blanket over my body and reach over the side of the bed and turn it off.
I sit back up, sighing and I look over and I had moved the covers off Jake. My face gets red and I though about last night—him kissing me as the rhythm of thrusts overcame my body.
I close my eyes and throw them back over him.
He breaths slowly, deep in sleep. I peek at him, his body now relatively covered with the gray comforter. He is handsome, just laying there doing completely nothing. His velvet soft lips opened just a bit, his face relaxed as his mind was in dream land.

I get up and put on one of his flannels that was in his closet; I button it up, leaving the top two undone. I walk to his tiny kitchen and see what he had to eat—which was minimal. So I just make a small pot of coffee.

I hear rustling from the bedroom then the creak of the floor before I hear, "What are you doing?"

I look at him from over my shoulder, "I'm making coffee?" His hair in a low hanging bun, only in boxers.

He furrows his brows, his eyes still closed—shielding themselves from the sun beaming through the windows. "Don't you have to go to Tea with your parents?" He mutters and rubs his sleepy eyes.

"Not for a few more hours." I myself, am tired from the activities that took place last night but I am more of a morning person than night—which he was the opposite.

He nods, not speaking and then slowly opens his eyes, blinking hard a few times before looking at me.
I glance over as I cook, a small smile on my face.

His lips curl into a smile, "So," he clears his throat, "About last night..."

I roll my eyes and look away, "Jake-"

"No, I just want feedback."

"Pardon?"

He walks over, his voice still tired—his feet heavy from gravity. "Feedback? Constructive criticism perhaps?"

"What is there to constructively criticizes?"

"Oh so I was amazing. Is that what you're telling me?" He smirks.

"Not exactly—"

He cuts me off "Ouch-"

"Let me finish." I pull out two mugs "You were great, it was just my first time. Trust me, it was better than I thought but it was odd you know-"

"It felt odd to express ones feelings in the most instinctive, ancient way—which is sex?"

I fill the mugs up with rich, black coffee and hand one to him "Yeah, what you said."

He grabs it, "Nice shirt, what handsome man did you steal that from?" He sips it, the steam rolling around his face.

I giggle, "You, I always thought flannels looked gross—but they are insanely comfy."

"Agreed, you look better in it though." He pushes his lower back against the counter

I blush and eat mine as well, "Why thank you."

"How many hours until Tea?"

"Three, and one of them consists on driving there—So two here."

"And you don't need to go back to your dorm?"

"No I'll just wear the black dress." I set my mug down, "Why are you asking?"

He sets his down too, his fingers going underneath the fabric of the flannel to hold my bare waist with his hands, "I think we should let the coffee cool, it's a little too hot." He kisses my neck, pulling my in.