𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 - 𝘄.𝗿.

xx. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀

RISING
IRIS JONES

*iris jones' point of view*

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I HAVE officially been staying at the bands' house for two weeks, now. i have been to my apartment a few times and debated on just staying there again, but i just can't do it. i walked into the front door and ended up having a panic attack right in front of warren when i looked at the same floor that matt had me pinned on.

there was no sign of him or anything, but that doesn't mean he still isn't staying there. i have almost my whole wardrobe sitting in warren's closet and dresser right now. i've been searching and searching for a new apartment so i'm not staying in warren's bed every night.

he can say whatever he wants about how he doesn't care and how he's okay with it, but i know the truth. he went straight from sleeping by himself and having the freedom to sleep in the nude if wanted, and now a girl is sleeping in his bed every night. not even just the fact there's someone sleeping with him, we cuddle. every night i always fall asleep on his chest, all snuggled against his neck with my leg draped over his waist.

he doesn't say anything about it. in fact, he's the one that usually initiates it. he told me "i like holding you. it reminds me that you're safe and you're not getting hurt." i won't sit here and tell you that i didn't cry, because in reality, i teared up a bit.

about four days ago, warren and i snuck into the studio at about midnight and started playing music. just us two. it was nice. we sat and talked for a while. we ended up playing one of my newer songs together. him on the drums, me singing and playing guitar. i'm not sure how many people know this but, warren is one hell of a songwriter.

we stayed there until like six in the morning and got caught by teddy. we didn't get in trouble or anything, he just said "you two drive me crazy," and walked away doing whatever he had to do.

i wash my hands after cleaning the rest of dishes that were in the sink. it's the least i can for the band letting me crash here. everyone's out today besides me and warren. we were up late last night, star-gazing, so everyone just let us sleep in. graham, karen, and eddie are all out doing god-knows what while billy and his family are mini-golfing. still no sign of daisy.

warren walks out of our- his bedroom rubbing his eyes. he sleeps shirtless so right now he's just wearing boxer shorts. at first he wore a t-shirt and pants so i didn't feel uncomfortable, but now it just feels regular.  i dry my hands off with a towel just as he sets his hand on my lower back and reaches above me for a coffee mug.

he apparently never used to drink coffee until i made him some. he says "you do something different too it". i don't know exactly what he's pertaining too, but hey, i'll gladly give the caffeine addiction epidemic to someone else too.

i take the mug and make him a cup of coffee. "good morning, sleepy head." i say to him as i give him the mug back. he takes a sip and gives me a hug as he sits the cup down on the counter.

"how you feeling this morning?" he asks me this everyday. or it's "are you okay?" or "you alright?". it always makes me feel ten times safer whenever he asks me. it always reassures me that i'm okay. i'm not hurt. i'm alive.