Christine woke up on a strange couch in a warm living room, one that didn't belong to her. She opened her eyes and recognized the baby piano on the other side of the room, as well as the coffee table right before her. The warm aroma of fresh coffee wafted into the room and she knew that he was awake.
She shifted her legs about upon the tops of the cushions, and she realized that she had a blanket over her body. She rolled over a bit for a better look into the rest of the apartment. She could hear him humming in the next room, a soft little melody that she didn't recognize.
Christine reached her arms up over her head and fetched up a yawn, and then she slithered off the couch. His hard wood floor sent chills up her legs to her hips and the small of her back, but she shook herself down before she headed into the tiny kitchen to find him. He stood before the counter next to the sink with a black coffee mug in one hand and the carafe filled with the freshly brewed coffee inside, but it wasn't those long and lanky guitarist fingers that captured her attention. He wore soft-looking flannel pajama pants of rich dark red plaid and nothing more: his belly hung out in round bare fashion and his deep chest seemed so much deeper out in the open like that.
Alex tucked the carafe back into the coffee maker, and he turned towards her: when he saw her, he brought his free hand up to the lower part of his prominent, chubby belly and bowed his head.
"There you are—'morning, Christine!" he declared. She lowered her gaze to the spot under his hand, to that line of dark hair down his belly to the top of the waistband of his pants.
"This is different," she remarked with a gesture to his body: her eyes made their way up to his bare nipples, his black hair, and the soft-looking skin all about his body.
"You weren't up yet," he told her with a shrug, and he held his coffee mug closer to his body as if to hide from her. "I just decided to... you know. Let everything hang out in the open." Christine brought her gaze back down to the middle of his body and the full shape of his belly and his hips. The skin on his chest was smooth while his lanky, muscular arms were lightly kissed by the sun, but she ran here gaze all up and down the entire shape of his body.
"No need to cover up for me," she assured him with a little shake of her head. "None whatsoever."
He straightened his spine, but he never moved his left hand from the full, round shape of his waist. Christine rubbed her eyes and sauntered over to him as if to touch him, but she never did: she instead stood there before him with her hands rested on her hips as if to show off the shape of her body, still wrapped in yesterday's clothes.
"And there's no need to cover up for me," he retorted back to her. "Would you like some coffee?"
"You know I would, pretty please." She breezed past him to the cupboard with the glasses, and she spotted a second coffee mug on the bottom shelf: a small narrow white cup with autumn leaves on the side. She picked it off the shelf, but it wasn't until she held onto the handle when she felt a slight tingling sensation in her fingertips.
The mug didn't belong to her: she flashed on the coffee mug she was making in ceramics, and she thought of making one for herself, one with a black exterior and a bright, blood red base to contrast with her long green coat. But she gazed on at the mug in her hand and something told her that she was crossing some sort of line. Christine poured herself a cup full, and then she made her way over to his little white fridge.
"Are you looking for creamer?" he asked her, and she turned around to see him there in the next room over, complete with those glasses on over his handsome face.
"Yeah. I can't really drink coffee without some."
"Right next to your head," he told her with a crooked little smile on his face. Christine took the little bottle of creamer out of the fridge door, and she poured some into her coffee, just enough for that creamy blonde look on a chilly morning. She then made her way back over to the living room.
YOU ARE READING
As the Seasons Grey
Romance"You're a sweet man, Alex-you deserve a break once in a while." He was the substitute teacher with the hands as fast as lightning, and she couldn't help but feel something with him. But it's a collegiate setting, and there's a boy next to her with u...
