Night Alpha

Part II - Blooming Warmth // 20 - Halfway Habits

Back in business :) Thank you for 10K! even though I'm a bit late :D

Quick note : thank you so so much to everyone commenting, everyone voting, of course everyone reading. I could not do this, not have the will to put these stories that linger on my mind without your support. I wanted to thank personally Bwgayoso, for their kind words and support that mean the world to me. 

For those wondering, I have taken down Blood Thieves for the moment to focus on this story.

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Somehow winter goes by quickly, maybe I lost track of time after staying copped up for too long. Maybe there was too much night for me to catch the sunrises. Now I see the fresh buds through the window, see patches of green fighting the mud and frozen dew. Too much Milo.

I've gotten used to him talking, barely react most days. He stayed inside with me for most of the time, rarely went out on some mornings. Never told me what for. Maybe he was waiting for me to ask, to investigate. We haven't been fighting, haven't been engaging either. We're just there.

But I can already see the blooming, imagine the sun on my skin. I grind my teeth together, can't keep my knees from twitching. Milo's hand comes to my eyes, hides the warms rays from view. I groan as I try to pry it away, huff when he groans back, not out of aggression but because he's only half awake.

« Not yet. » His limbs pull me to him lazily but steadily, I've gotten used to his sleeping habits. His voice is a raspy whisper, he's annoyed. I can't tell if it's because Milo is always grumpy in the morning or because if doesn't like when I wake up before him. Always makes a big deal out of it.

He pulls me to his side, into his warm chest and my thighs twitch instead. I manage to free an arm to push a pillow under my head and try to fall back asleep on my stomach, try to ignore the dawn a bit longer. It's comfortable. His forearm is flexed over my shoulder and I sigh for what's coming.

« Milo wake up. » I try to stop him, weak and effortless whine unanswered before he used my shoulder to pull himself over me. I still haven't figured out why he does it. Why some morning he tries to crush me with his weight, but soon most of him is on me. Shoulders of matching my own and warmth encompassing. I fall a back asleep for a second, jerk awake the next when my lungs can't fill with as much air.

« My bad. » he grunts to echo my quiet wheeze. He's gotten better at that, English and not crushing me. He says it one more time against my neck before letting his body fall off mine. He even takes his hands back to clutch the cover and only his face remains planted onto my spine between my shoulder blades.

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I manage to push him off to go to the bathroom, he stirs when I leave the sheets behind me but grunts himself back to sleep using my pillow as a rest. I barely have time to use the toilet and get into the shower before I hear the door creak open. I don't bother trying to lock it anymore. A pillow falls on the threshold and his head follows suit, eyes still closed with sleep.

I found that he had terrible sleep habits, well more that he's bad at waking up. It takes him a lot of grunting and stretching. When before, he would always wake up before me, now he lets himself take the time to linger. Yet even when he still can't open his eyes, he feels when I'm awake, knows when I rise from bed. I'm not sure if it's from him or the wolf.

We found a new routine now. One that's more confortable for him, inconvenient for me. But it's not so bad, now that he doesn't shy away. His touches have become more frequent but somehow more fleeting. Feather like brushes and soothing hushes. Except when he cuddles me in his sleep, he doesn't forces me to anything. It's warmer now that the snow has started to melt.

I try not to laugh when a snore overpowers the water falling. He has a dimple when he laughs, on his left cheek. I try not to smooth it away. A crooked teeth when he lets out a yawn. His hair has gotten longer, still sticks out in all direction when he rises. But he's still snoring the morning away when I'm done showering. I get dressed in my usual sweatpants.

In a few minutes I'm done brushing my teeth and towel drying my hair. I need a shirt but the idiot is in the way. I had occasions to find out that he didn't like me stepping over him, so I settle for a nudge to his head with a foot. His face scrunches up but he plants his face back to the pillow he has captive. His black hair paints the pillow and I can't help but to crouch to tidy the locks falling on his eyes.

Can't help but smile when he only sighs in response. His eyes snap open when my fingers gently trace the sleep lines on his forehead. I let out a quiet gasp but fall on my back from the surprise. I don't understand how he works most times. I try to pat my hurt cheek when he turns to face me, more surprise on his face than blush but it still shows on his ears.

He pulls on my foot and suddenly I'm falling back on the bathroom tiles. Of course one his hands come behind my skull to cushion the fall. My body buzzes between the cold floor and his warmth, my eyes open in shock because I didn't mean to do that. His other comes to grab the back on thigh rising and he plants himself there. Eyes wide and pupils blown, Milo gives the flesh a soft squeeze.

A moan clogs my throat and I bend my other leg to push my foot against his chest. That, is not how I planned the morning to go. His hands release me and he lets them hang in the air, like just maybe he wasn't conscious of his behavior. He blinks a few times, folds his back even with my foot in the way, pushes away the hair that has fallen on my forehead.

« Thanks for waking me. » his voice is scratchy from sleep but he's wide awake now, pulls his hips back from mine. And I can a only feel the tiles. My faces flushes when he pushes on his feet to rise, wipes his mouth and moves to the shower. My limp limbs jerk when I hear his shorts hit the ground and I take the forgotten pillow with me.

I hope the water deafens my heart beat, hope he was too unfocused to notice the blush that warmed my face, the air going out of my lips at his touch. I try to relax my fingers when they start cramping on the pillow. I am pent up ? I've been laying around for too long. I walk to the window with haste, pull the certain back fully. Wet but not frozen.

I catch my reflection on the glass, flushed and teary eyed, with my face with the pillow before tossing it on the bed. I let myself breathe a bit more, full gulps to fill my caving lungs, to settle my growing nerves. If can't let myself go, I might as well workout. I need to relieve the pressure, because being constantly around Milo has wrecked my senses.

I barely have time to make the bed before Milo comes back. I'm halfway into putting a cotton shirt on when he steps into the room, hair darkened by the water, damp locks dragging falling drop onto his skin. His thumb wipes at a drop that gathered on his eyebrow as his eyes track the line of skin of my stomach disappearing under the shirt.

His tongue darts out to his lips for moisture but I'm stuck, hands around the soft material, stuck at his full lips, in awe at his arm reaching up. We stay like this for a few seconds before my nerves get the best of me and I race to the bed to get settled. The corner of his lips rises just the tiniest bit, like maybe he just won something.

I decide to ignore him, get confortable on my side of the bed with pillows behind my back. I don't have to put the cover on me now, I eye the sun seeping through the window, promise of warmth and of cool breaths. He settles in front of me as usual, breakfast tray our routine barrier. He must have gotten it while I was spacing out. He brings a glazed pancake to his mouth while I cradle a cup of coffee in my hands.

« I want to go outside. » 

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