𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝟏𝟖+

| 𝟎.𝟓

—

"Do you ever look at a guy's hands and think yes."

—

The storm continued to rage outside; loud thundering booms lit up the dark sky. I was having a hard time sleeping. It was cold, and I couldn't stop shivering, my body stiff. With some struggle, I sit up and groan in exhaustion, carefully creeping down the stairs.

Creed was all but willing to sacrifice his back on his small couch for me to sleep here, and I couldn't help but feel bad. I walk up to him and gently tap his shoulder. "Creed," I whisper.

I repeated his name but was only greeted with light snores. I sigh in annoyance and go around the couch to face him. "Creed," I whisper again.

Exhaling a startled yelp, He suddenly pinned my back to the couch with Creeds' large body towering over mine. His eyes were sleepy but still held awareness within them. "Jamilyn?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"What are you doing up? It's three in the morning." He still held my wrist beside my head.

"The storms pretty bad outside, and I-I was; um." I struggled to get the word out because my teeth started chattering.

He looked worried. "Are you okay?"

I shudder. "I think I got hypothermia."

He quickly gets off me, releasing my wrist and sitting me upright. He tells me to stay out before heading to the kitchen.

The couch was warm compared to the bed and felt good against my cold skin. I shudder at the temperature difference and grab the blanket Creed was using to cover me. I silently sigh in contentment at his warmth, snuggling further into the blanket.

"Let's get you upstairs," Creed says, helping me stand on my wobbly feet.

Suddenly I'm being lifted and encased in the arms of Creed, walking up the stairs. I look at him in surprise. "I can walk, you know?" I clutch his broad shoulder to feel secure.

"What, you don't like being a princess?" His lips curled in such a manner that made my stomach spin.

I tug a few strands of his hair that fall over his forehead. "I never said that," I mumbled.

He chuckles, opening the door. "You're in good hands, my precious neighbor."

Creed placed me on the bed and went to the bathroom. I smelled something sweet, and my nose led me to a mug filled with chamomile tea.

"I hope you like honey."

I look up. "I do."

He carried a bowl of steaming water and some washcloths. I gaze over them curiously. "Am I receiving a bath?"

He released an airy laugh before turning somber. "No, it's something my mom used to do when I got sick. Hold out your wrist."

I do and watch as he dips the washcloths in the water and squeezes, placing them over my wrist. I hum lowly at the feeling and shut my eyes. The hot water dissolved any trace of goosebumps. "What does it do?"

"Place warmth on your pulses, and it'll help warm the rest of your body," Creed explains.

I hum, "It's nice."

"Yeah," he trails off, becoming silent.

My eyes flutter open to see him staring at me. "Is there something on my face?"

He seemed to snap out of what trance he was in and grabbed the other washcloth, soaking them. He lifts it to my neck before looking at me. "You mind?"

I shake my head no and take in the sensation of him trailing the washcloth around the pulse of my neck. It was calming, and I didn't want it to end.

"You're good at this," I tell him, my eyes closing again.

He didn't say anything, and I wallowed in the calm silence. He continued the movement for a few minutes, re-wetting the clothes a few times. For his sake, I take the stripes away from my shoulder to give him more space.

A couple of times, water trailed down my shoulder and to my chest. "Feel any better," he asks, briefly trailing the hot clothes around my upper back.

"Yes," I murmured, unintentionally laying my head on his shoulder.

His movement ceased, and I didn't resist opening my eyes to see him gazing into me. Not at me.

Into me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

"What." I give him a small confused smile. The low lamp light emphasized his green irises and striking features.

"You're exquisite."

My eyes widen, mildly stunned at the exceeding compliment. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks and ears and withstand lifting my hands to cover it. "Thank you," I say and clench the bed sheets.

Our facing were centimeters away to the point of sharing breaths. The slight huffs of his minty breath brushed my lips. His green eyes darted all over my face stopping short of my lips. I lick them at the attention, and my chest lifts with anticipation. The trance is broken when another boom comes from the sky, and suddenly the lamp begins to flicker before completely shutting off. I jump back in surprise and pull the covers over my exposed legs.

Creed tilts his head down and subtly rubs his stubbled chin with a curse. "Fuck. Sit tight; the power might've gone out," Creed says, testing the lamp switch.

"This happen often?" I refer to the blackout.

He pulls on a coat and some rain boots. "The generates a bit old, nothing good smack can't fix."

My expression is worried as I bounce my gaze from the raging storm outside to him. "Are you sure it's safe?"

He leans against the doorway. "Worried about my safety, princess?"

Blush clashed with my mocha skin, and I scoffed to cover up that the nickname made my lower belly stir.

"Not a chance, lover boy."

His expression stills. You know that look someone can give you when they're admiring you but also trying to find a way to destroy everything about you because they know it'll be their undoing. The reason they cave in too quickly and at that point it's either self-destruction or self-realization.

With lazy eyes, he gazed. The self-destruction times infinity, but he looked like he was willing to sacrifice being corrupted.

"Go back to sleep. It's gonna be a long night," Creed said, closing the door behind him.

I stare at the door for a minute before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

"Christ, help me."