Tangled In Time

The Last Morning

The soft click of the camera pulled me from the edges of sleep, the sound sharp against the quiet of the room. I opened one eye groggily, only to find Blake sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, the camera raised to his face. His bare chest gleamed faintly in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, and the mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Blake," I muttered, my voice husky with sleep, "in my time, people can get arrested for that sort of thing."

He lowered the camera slightly, his grin widening. "Really?"

"Sort of," I replied dryly, rolling onto my back with a groan. "It's called being a creep."

His laugh echoed throughout the room, warm and unguarded, before he moved to my end of the bed and kissed my head.

"Sleep well?" he asked as I stretched.

"Very," I said sitting up, though the truth was that sleep had been elusive. I'd drifted in and out of it all night, my mind too restless to find peace.

My heart twisted as he moved away and headed toward the ensuite bathroom. I watched him disappear, knowing every moment I spent with him made it harder to say goodbye. Blake was unlike anyone I'd ever known—a force of nature I didn't want to resist. The way he looked at me, touched me, made me feel... it was a pull I couldn't ignore, no matter how much I told myself I had to leave.

I pulled my arms over my face, trying to block out the ache creeping into my chest. Even as I lay there, the thought of walking away from him seemed unbearable. Peeking through my arms, I watched as he disappeared into the ensuite, the sound of running water breaking the silence.

"I think I should get ready and leave," I said quickly, my voice muffled by my arms. The water shut off abruptly, and I heard Blake's footsteps as he re-entered the room.

I peeked out to find him standing in the doorway, a towel slung low around his hips, toothbrush poking out of the corner of his mouth. His expression was a mix of sadness and reluctance.

"No breakfast?" he asked, his face crumpled into a slight frown.

I sat up, pulling the covers tightly around me. "If I stay for breakfast, then I'll stay a little longer, and then it'll turn into just one more day."

Leaning against the doorframe, Blake's gaze softened, his blue eyes tinged with sadness. "It seems you know my tricks already," he murmured, his faint smile not quite reaching his eyes.

A sad smile tugged at my lips as I nodded, my chest tightening with the weight of leaving him. For a moment, the room was thick with unspoken emotion. Slowly, I slipped from the bed, the covers pooling around me like a barrier I was forcing myself to step beyond.

"When did you get your things?" I asked softly, noticing his toothbrush in hand and his neatly laid-out clothes on the chair in the corner.

"While you were sleeping," he said with a small, knowing smile.

A knock at the door startled me, pulling me out of my thoughts. Blake's expression shifted instantly, amusement and caution flickering across his face as he mouthed, "Sophie," before retreating back into the bathroom.

I wrapped the covers around myself, hesitating for a moment before calling out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Sophie's familiar face appeared, bright but tinged with curiosity.

"Good morning, Miss Felicity," she said cheerily, her eyes scanning the room before settling on me. "I came to see if you needed anything before breakfast."

"Good morning, Sophie," I replied, trying to steady my voice. "I'm alright, thank you."

Her gaze lingered on the rumpled bed and the faint blush creeping up my neck. "Shall I have tea brought up?" she asked, though the knowing glint in her eyes made the question seem more pointed than polite.

I shook my head, forcing a small smile. "No, thank you."

Sophie hesitated, then nodded. "Very well, Miss. Oh, and if you see Mr. Blake, let him know Kingsley and Roy are looking for him," she added, her voice carrying a deliberate edge of emphasis.

From the bathroom, I caught the faintest choking sound—Blake stifling a laugh. I fought to maintain my composure, nodding at Sophie with feigned innocence.

"If I see him, I'll be sure to pass that along," I said smoothly.

Sophie's lips twitched as though holding back a grin, and she turned to leave, the door clicking shut behind her.

Blake emerged from the bathroom, his hair slightly damp. "How ever did she know?" he asked, grinning as he gestured to his clothes on the chair.

I groaned, falling back onto the pillows, the mortification catching up with me. "You're impossible," I muttered, though a reluctant smile played on my lips.

After Sophie's departure, I stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over me. But no amount of water could wash away the ache in my chest. Leaving Blake felt like tearing away a part of myself.

When I emerged, I dressed quickly in a light green summer dress and cream cardigan, tying my hair into a loose ponytail.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Blake was sitting at the small table with a newspaper in hand.

"While you were showering, I had this sent up," he said, nodding toward the table. Two trays sat waiting, each holding a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast, accompanied by glasses of orange juice. My stomach rumbled as the aroma wafted toward me.

"I couldn't let you leave on an empty stomach."

I sat on the edge of the bed, sipping my juice.

"Is it bad if I say I hope it doesn't work?" Blake said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, but there was a vulnerability beneath the words that made my chest tighten.

I paused mid-bite, my fork hovering over my plate. "I know it's selfish, but I can't help it," he added, his eyes on the tray in front of him.

I stretched out my leg and tapped his knee with my foot, trying to bridge the space between us.

He narrowed his eyes playfully before laughing. Despite the light heartedness, the sadness beneath his smile lingered.

We finished breakfast in silence. After setting our plates aside, I crossed to where Blake sat, climbing into his lap and wrapping my arms around him. My head rested against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"If we don't leave now, I won't ever let you leave," he murmured, his hand smoothing over my ponytail before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I moved from his lap and then noticed his jacket from the night of the ball. 

"Can I take this with me?" I asked, holding it up It had been hanging on the back of a chair in my room, and I hadn't returned it to him yet.

He smiled sadly, leaning back in his chair. "You can keep anything you want," he said, his voice laced with affection.

I slipped his jacket over my shoulders, feeling a sense of comfort and belonging as the familiar scent enveloped me. Blake eyes softened as they met mine. Grinning, I reached into the pocket and pulled out the handkerchief with his initials stitched in. I'd placed it there with the intention of returning it, but now it was a memento of the night of the ball.

"I think that's everything," I said, surveying the room, none of the items were truly mine, except for my phone and the clothes I'd worn, which Blake had already taken care of. The weight of our impending separation hung in the air, making the silence heavy.

Blake rubbed his temples before getting up and out of the chair. 

"Right, come on then," he said, his voice laced with both sorrow and resolve, and I knew it was time to leave.