we might be falling in love - patricio o' ward

pillow fort

November 22nd, 2022

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Astraea blinked her eyes open, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Pato's chest beneath her cheek. She sighed contentedly, snuggling closer into his embrace.

Pato stirred, his hand brushing against her hair as he woke up. "Morning, princesa," he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

Astraea smiled against his chest. "Morning, Pato."

Pato tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer. "How are you feeling?"

Astraea stretched lazily, her muscles pleasantly sore from the night before. "Perfect. Last night was..."

"Amazing," Pato finished for her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You're amazing."

Astraea tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. "So are you. I didn't know I could feel this happy."

Pato smiled, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her back. "Neither did I. I'm so glad we have this time together."

They lay there in comfortable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence. Astraea could hear the faint sounds of the rest of the house waking up, the distant clatter of someone making breakfast, but it all felt distant and unimportant compared to the warmth of Pato's embrace.

"Do you think the others are up yet?" Astraea asked, her voice soft.

Pato chuckled. "If they are, they're probably dealing with a massive hangover and the aftermath of last night's chaos."

Astraea giggled, remembering the mess downstairs. "We should probably help clean up later."

Pato nodded, his expression turning serious. "We will. But for now, let's just enjoy this moment. Just you and me."

Astraea reached up, cupping his face in her hands. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Pato leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their hearts full.

"Let's go make some breakfast," Pato suggested, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I'm sure the others could use some strong coffee and a good meal."

Astraea nodded, slipping out of bed and reaching for one of Pato's shirts to throw on. "Sounds like a plan."

Pato laughed, getting up and wrapping an arm around her waist. "You look fucking adorable in that shirt, I wonder who's that is."

Hand in hand, they made their way downstairs, ready to cook breakfast for their lovely group of friends. An amazing clan that would be a group for a lifetime.

Now while the two are all lovey lovey, cooking downstairs. Our other couples not so much.

The sun was well up by the time the rest of the group began to stir, each couple feeling the full force of the previous night's revelry. One by one, they stumbled out of their rooms, looking worse for wear, their hangovers palpable in the way they squinted at the sunlight and groaned with each step.

Charles and Charlotte were the first to emerge, Charles's usual composed demeanor replaced with a grimace of discomfort. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at the offending sunlight streaming through the windows. "I feel like I've been run over by a truck," he muttered, his voice a raspy whisper.

Charlotte, clutching her head, looked equally miserable. "Why did we think mixing tequila and champagne was a good idea?" she groaned, stumbling down the stairs. They made their way to the kitchen, holding onto the railing for dear life.