I hear a loud crack of thunder, jolting me awake. I abruptly sit up where I am, shaking. I realize I'm in a bed. I must've fallen asleep during the show. Another thunder crack; I bury my face in my knees, holding them tight to my chest. That's when I feel a pair of arms around me. I unfold myself, looking up at Conan. He gives me a warm smile. I feel his fingers start to run through my hair, something he always does to calm me down.
He pulls me slightly closer to him, my head resting on his chest. He then lays down, keeping me close to him. Another crack of thunder. I bury my head into his shirt, shutting my eyes. I feel both his arms around me, holding me tight. I feel the tears in my eyes as I try to hold them in. It's no use. I feel the tears start to trickle down my cheek in hot streams. He tilts my face towards his, wiping my tears with his thumb.
"Hey, hey...it's gonna be okay...you're safe here" he reminds me. I nod, the tears starting to slow. He leans in and kisses my forehead, making me forget about the storm completely. He then pulls me back in, holding me close. I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes.
I feel the warm sunlight on my face as I start to wake up. I open my eyes for a brief moment, looking around. I was still holding on to Conan. "Good morning" he says, running his fingers through my hair. "G-good morning" I stutter, still trying to remember how I got here. "I'm sorry, I should've given you personal space" I almost whisper. "What?" he says, his face confused. "No, you shouldn't have. You have no reason to be sorry, okay?" He tilts my chin towards him, looking into my eyes.
"Okay" I reply. He smiles at me, that same warm smile I love so much. After a minute or two, he says, "We should probably get up" I look at the clock, the time being 9:35 am. "Conan, you get up early" I say. "But I guess I'm already up anyways so it doesn't matter."
He laughs at this, then sits up with his arms still around me. "Are you okay though?" He looks at me, eyes filled with worry. "Yeah, I'm fine" I reply. I hope he can't tell I'm lying. "Promise?" he asks. I look at my hands, then at him. "Never mind, you don't have to promise. It's okay love" This sends butterflies jolting through my stomach. I look away, feeling the blush creeping into my cheeks.
He gets up, reaching out his hand for mine. I take it while I follow him into the kitchen. He reaches his hand up to open the cabinet and takes out two mugs, still holding my hand. He starts making coffee, one for him and one for me. Once they are both made, he hands me my cup and walks toward the sofa. He sits down and I sit next to him. The sofa is facing the window, giving us a beautiful view of New York.
I feel his thumb start to rub against my hand. I look up at him, his eyes focused on the window and his other hand focused on his coffee. I look back at the window, taking a sip of my coffee. I almost melt at the taste. He makes it so well. After a few minutes and an empty mug, I set it down on the coffee table and lean into him. I rest my head on his shoulder. I feel him set his mug down, then reach his arms around me. I look up to see him smiling.
He was so sweet. I mean, he was literally perfect. His curls fell perfectly against his shoulders, but still shorter than they used to be. His boba colored eyes made me melt, as well as his vanilla skin and bubblegum colored lips. He had these beautiful beauty marks on his skin, making him so unique yet pretty. He looked good in anything. But behind all this, he was kind. He cared...about me and my mental health. And I know I am so lucky for that. I shouldn't mess it up.
