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Chapter 42: Magic

Chapter 42: Magic

"Yeah, it's me," he confirms, putting my mind to rest.

It's strange how my anxieties instantly form wings and fly far away after hearing his simple statement. He miraculously makes everything better, so much better.

"Sorry for waking you," he apologizes. "I was really trying to be quiet."

"You failed," I tease him, unable to stop smiling. I already feel like myself again. He really is my lifeline. He's my magic.

He bends down and places a kiss on my forehead before he starts shrugging off his jacket. "You can go back to sleep."

I bite my lip to keep from smiling further and furiously shake my head. "Not a chance."

He arches an eyebrow at me questioningly while unbuttoning his shirt.

"I missed you so much. There's no way I'm just going back to sleep. You've barely even kissed me," I complain.

He glances down at me for a second, trying to figure me out, before a mischievous grin begins to take shape on his lips. "Is this another one of your cries for more romance without directly asking me for it?"

I cross my arms over my chest. "Well, it wouldn't kill you to show me more affection."

"Firstly, I've just been on a thirteen-hour flight, and secondly, I've literally just walked into the room, and finally, you really need to learn to just ask me for whatever it is you want. I'll never refuse you. Also, I don't think I can get much more affectionate with you. Give me a sec' and I'll show you all the affection in the world," he promises, pulling off his shirt.

I watch him closely, refraining from staring at his drool-worthy abs -- I can't afford to be tempted right now. "I'm waiting," I remind him, wanting to feel his arms around me already.

He undoes the button of his jeans and laughs quietly. "You're so impatient."

His laugh is like music to my ears. It's honestly the best sound in the world. It's my most favorite sound and I never want to go without it.

"Can I at least shower first?" he asks, seeking my permission.

I shake my head, my mind made up. "No," I reply firmly.

We all know that he's probably showered a billion times on the plane in any case. He's never not clean. He's cleaner than soap.

"But I feel like I could be cleaner," he protests.

"No time," I add, looking away when he pulls down his zipper and starts changing out of jeans and into a pair of black sweats. "I want you and I want you now."

He raises both eyebrows and freezes, taken aback my words. "Babe," he starts hesitantly, recovering, "you might want to rephrase because I know you didn't mean that to be how it sounded, and I don't want to get too...you know...for no reason."

I just smile, aware of where his head is at. "Never leave me again," I command.

Concern sweeps through his eyes. "You've really haven't taken this well, huh? It's been a hard knock for you?"

I nod. "I hate being away from you. Not a fan."

"Me neither," he agrees before crawling on top of me. He leans down to kiss me on the lips, but I turn my face away. He furrows his brows in confusion and backs off slightly. "You're sending me mixed signals again. Sometimes, I still struggle to read you. Do you not want me to--"

"I do!" I quickly declare. "I'm sick, though," I explain before he can take it personally. I would never reject him for no reason.

"I don't care," he retorts stubbornly, unfazed.