A Dove's Tale

Chapter 93

A surprised shriek penetrated the thick layers of my deep, dreamless sleep to wake me up the next morning. Theresa, my foggy brain registered. I was too warm and comfortable to even contemplate why she shrieked like that.

"Five more minutes," I mumbled.

"No wonder you were trying so hard to make me leave last night!" she said triumphantly.

Her words prompted a nagging at the back of my mind, a feeling that there was something important I'd forgotten, but I dismissed it and nuzzled into my pillow.

"Go away."

"Okay, I'll go. But don't forget about your test," she said in a singsong voice.

"Get out."

My eyes shot wide open as Chevalier's frigid command rumbled through my pillow beneath my cheek. Except there was no pillow. He was my pillow. And he had his arm around me, and I was cuddled up to him, and that's why Theresa had shrieked when she walked in, and the split second it took me to realize all of that was enough to make my face burn. I sat bolt upright with a surprised gasp, but Chevalier yanked me back down to this side.

"Not you."

"Chevalier, please-" I begged, my cheeks so hot I had to be at risk of bursting into flames.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he said, his icy voice directed at Theresa.

"I-I'll come back later," she stammered, all the confidence gone from her suddenly meek voice.

The door latched closed, and the room was silent again, save for the pounding of my heart in my ears and the rustling of the sheets as Chevalier rolled onto his side and pulled me into his chest. He was apparently unconcerned about Theresa catching us in bed together. I, however, was beyond concerned, teetering on the edge between embarrassment and pure mortification.

"Chevalier, I have to get up. I have a test-"

"It can wait," he said, nuzzling into my hair.

The sensation stilled my racing mind. His breath on my scalp, his warm embrace, the steady beating of his heart in my ear, all washed over me the same soothing way they had last night when he found me cowering behind the bathtub in a state of sheer panic. That was a new low for me. But he stayed, and he calmed me down, and he told me he loved me, and he was still here, holding me as if I weren't a complete mess who couldn't function without him anymore.

A few more minutes wouldn't hurt anything.

"Okay," I relented, relaxing into his embrace.

He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me a little tighter. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, much better," I confirmed, smiling shyly up at him. The warmth in his sleepy blue eyes wrapped around my heart and woke the butterflies in my stomach. "Thank you, Chevalier."

He removed one hand from my back to tuck my hair behind my ear, trailing his finger along my jaw to my chin. I buried my face in the pillow. The actual pillow.

"You don't want to kiss me right now. I haven't washed my face yet, and my mouth still tastes nasty-"

His lips pressed against my temple and brought my nervous excuses to a halt. "Look at me, Ivetta."

There was a sweetness to his voice that I'd never heard before. It tugged at my heart, and his fingers combed through my hair, and I couldn't resist turning my head just enough to peek at him. He smiled and settled his cheek on the pillow next to me. It felt like the butterflies were doing cartwheels inside my stomach. I finally gave in and turned to face him, closing my eyes and smiling against his lips as they pressed into mine. It wasn't a long, passionate kiss, but it was soft and sweet, and it made my heart sing. He pulled back and stroked my cheek with his finger, his smile wider than I'd ever seen it.