Sailing With Destiny

That Escalated

Whoever knocked at my door in the middle of the night had a death wish. I drifted off into dreamland when I was interrupted by the continuous ringing of the doorbell. As I dragged my bare feet over the wooden floors, I glanced at the kitchen and wondered if I should've taken a knife to murder the person who disturbed me. I recalled orange wasn't a good color on me and with a yawn, made my way to the door. 

The person on the other side of the door continuously pressed on the bell as if it were their personal stress ball. The sound wasn't very loud but it annoyed the hell out of my half-asleep brain.

"Hold your damn horses!" I was so tired that I didn't remember to check the peephole to identify the sleep-ruining pest on the other side. 

I opened the door and froze for a second, I blinked once, twice, and then many times rapidly to make sure my eyes didn't deceive me. Dressed as if he just got dragged back from hell that he called work, stood Mitchell. He appeared exhausted; his hair was in such a mess that I made a mental note to gift him a hairbrush. Yet he still looked as handsome as ever with one hand against the doorframe and his legs crossed at the ankles. 

I blinked more and rubbed my eyes, "Mitchell?"

How is he here? I must be dreaming.

"Hi, Baby," Mitchell took a step forward, reached for my face, and brushed hair out of my face. "I got your message and thought I'd respond in person." He kissed my forehead and without waiting for a response, walked into my apartment as if he owned the place. 

"Message..." I whispered under my breath in confusion. 

I had no idea if I was truly awake or if I was stuck in some kind of lucid dream where this felt real but was the furthest from it. I shut the door and turned on my heel, Mitchell left his bag in the living room, and with one hand on his hip, he took in his surroundings. 

"The place looks great," Mitchell commented. "It's very...you."

I took slow steps towards him and rubbed my eyes again. "How are you here right now?"

Mitchell stared at me so intensely that I wondered if perhaps I had a wardrobe malfunction. I glanced at my pajamas and adjusted my top just in case my nipple decided to play peek-a-boo. 

Mitchell's gaze followed my movements and when I was done, he glanced up at me with a small smirk. "Why are you trying to cover what I've already seen?" 

Is he drunk or is my imagination-Mitchell bold when he's sober?

I crossed my arms over my chest and squared my shoulders. "Answer my question first."

"Come here, you," Mitchell grabbed my waist and pulled me towards him. I was caught off guard and stood immobile for a second until my brain registered that I actually felt the warmth from his touch – he felt very much real at that moment. Mitchell's scent enveloped me and I slowly wrapped my arms around him as he tightened his hold. "God, I've missed you."

I shut my eyes and even if this was a dream, I sighed contently and leaned into his familiar, comforting embrace that I missed so much. I nuzzled my nose against his chest and inhaled deeply, he smelled and felt just like my Bitchell. 

Mitchell kissed the top of my head and held me for a long while, I was so tired that if he didn't let go of me, I would've fallen back to sleep right there. "If you don't let go, I'm going to fall asleep."

Mitchell's chest vibrated from his low chuckle. "Are you an elephant who can stand and sleep?"

"Hmm-mm," I hummed. "But if you hold me any tighter, you'd be the elephant with a trunk in your pants."