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— 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 Warren woke up and finished his shower, Winona had fallen asleep on the sofa.
Layla grabbed a blanket and gently placed it over the woman, turning off the television and then walking upstairs.
Warren's bedroom door was closed so she gently knocked on it, waiting until she heard his muffled and raspy sounding 'Come in.'
When she opened the door, she saw Warren in the middle of slipping on a black wife beater tank top, his slightly damp abs disappearing beneath the material — though the top left little to the imagination anyway.
He wore a pair of grey sweatpants, also not leaving much room to have to imagine — the sweats clinging to his thick thighs like a lifeline.
His hair pressed against his back — damp, tangled, and curling just the slightest.
Layla quietly closed the door and walked over to the bed, sitting at the edge.
Warren silently fished out a brush from one of his drawers before walking over to Layla and handing it to her.
She grabbed it from his hand, their fingers brushing against one another as she did so, and she felt her breath hitch slightly.
She looked up at him and gave him a small smile. "You wanna sit on the bed?"
Warren remained silent for a moment before shaking his head ever so slowly. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before responding.
"Just gonna lean against the bed." He spoke quietly, his voice coming out raspy.
Layla nodded quickly. "Okay." She said, her tone soft and quiet as she spoke to him.
He turned his back towards her and slowly sat down, settling against the edge of the bed and in between her legs as Layla grabbed the brush.
She waited until he stopped fiddling about before gently grabbing a section of his hair and beginning to brush.
For a while it was silent, save for the sounds of Layla running the brush through Warren's thick hair, gently untangling the wet strands as she went.
Eventually, though, Warren spoke up.
He cleared his throat and spoke into the silent room. "What's my mom doing now?"
Layla smiled to herself as she spoke, never pausing her ministrations against his hair.
"She's sleeping right now. In the living room. I put a blanket on her and made sure she was comfortable, don't worry."
Warren relaxed further into the bed, tilting his head back ever so slightly, the corner of his lips lifting just the slightest as he closed his eyes.
"Thank you." He said softly.
Layla nodded. "Of course."
She didn't say anything else for a moment, but the mention of Winona pulled their previous conversation back to her mind.
After a bit, she finally spoke again.
"Your mom, she um..." She trailed off for a moment. "She asked me to be there during your father's hearing next week."
She felt Warren tense up a little at that, and she stopped brushing his hair, staring at his head.
She swallowed deeply before speaking again. "If you don't want me there-"
"I want you there, Hippie." Warren cut her off. "I want you everywhere, always."
Layla smiled softly, finishing up with his hair before setting the brush beside her on the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands landing somewhere over his chest.
Warren's own hands came to rest over her wrists, not to stop her — but just to hold her there.
Layla sighed softly and tightened her hold on him, before gently releasing him and moving to run her fingers through his hair, ensuring there were no more tangles she might've missed.
She did it a few more times, noticing that Warren relaxed at the touch.
After a minute, he gently pulled away from her and stood up, turning around to face her instead — still standing between her legs.
She looked up at him and he looked down at her, an intense look in his eyes as they just stared at one another.
And then Warren grabbed her by the waist, casually and gently tossing her further up the bed — ignoring her little squeal of surprise at the sudden movement.
He crawled over her, never breaking eye contact as he made himself comfortable on top of her, the only thing stopping their bodies from fully touching being Warren holding his body weight up on his forearms.
Layla looked up at him, her mouth parted in shock and want at the tension between them.
Involuntarily, her eyes went down to his lips, before she quickly corrected herself and looked back up into his eyes.
The very eyes that seemed to darken with something as Warren continued to stare at her.
"Don't stop." He said quietly, slowly lowering himself on top of her, placing his head right over her chest.
It didn't take Layla long to realize that he wanted her to continue running her hands through his hair, so she did exactly that.
The pyrokinetic sighed softly in contentment and fully relaxed into her body, closing his eyes once more.
"I'm gonna fall asleep just like this. You gonna let me?" He asked quietly.
Layla hummed softly as she carded her fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I'm gonna let you."
"Good." Was his only response before he went quiet.
The feeling of his body on top of Layla's felt comforting. The feeling of him being in her arms felt warm and safe, and right.
It wasn't long before she too, closed her eyes and let sleep consume her — her hand never leaving his hair as she drifted off into whatever dream lay ahead of her.
