Inhibited, Exhilarated

Chapter 6

Well, this may have been a bad idea after all, Ellana thinks to herself. It's almost four in the morning, she's woken up by the need to relieve herself and once she's back in bed, there he is, in all his sleepy glory. Now she can't fall back asleep, mesmerized as she is staring at him like a creep. Creators! Why must he be so gorgeous! The comforter is all tousled and twisted on his side of the bed, and so is his tank top that's mostly rolled up, revealing a good part of his abdomen and chest. His pajama pants are also sitting way too low on his hips, again! He's lying on his back and slightly turned towards her side. Judging by the rapid movement of his eyes behind his closed lids, he's far gone in dreams. Ellana looks at his rosebud mouth of parted lips and must bite her own lower one to resist the temptation to touch them. To taste them. To bite them. There's barely a cold moon glow outside that bathes the bedroom in subtle pale blue. The scarce light available limns his form just enough to recognize it on the bed. For all she knows, he's an apparition of her dreams materialized in the real world and so close to the touch. Just an arm's length away. His chest softly lifts and collapses with his even breathing. For a long while she admires those razor sharp high cheekbones of his and the elegant straight bridge of his nose. At times his brow tightens, a little twitch of his head and a small adjusting of his body make her wonder what might he be dreaming.

She knows she's wasting precious time of sleep. She should fall back asleep and rest properly before rising to a new day full of activities. Yet she's hypnotized by him. Before she knows it, she's indulging her fantasies, imagining herself snaking a hand his way to touch his belly and travel under his rolled up tank top to tease a nipple. She wonders how his taunt lean muscles feel under her touch, and what kinds of sounds she could make him sigh and moan with her ministrations. The ghost of his cock beneath his pants inevitably catches her attention. Even in its flaccid state he looks bigger than the average. Ellana sits up on the edge of the bed and walks away. She doesn't know where, but she must get out of bed this minute, even if it's just for a moment. This isn't healthy. Mr. Harel is her boss and the only reason he agreed to share the bed with her is because she insisted he did so for the sake of his wretched neck and back.

Ellana walks towards the lounge area and goes to the open kitchen. She opens the fridge and drinks a long sip of milk directly from the carton. Perhaps she should warm up some, an intrusive thought suddenly says in her mind. Isn't warm milk supposed to aid with sleeplessness? Who used to say that? Her mother? That's probably it, yes. She pours some milk in a pan and sets the kitchen stove at a low temperature to warm it up. While she waits, she paces the length of the lounge area. The place is in a state of contained mess. Mr. Harel's suitcase lays on an extreme of the couch, its zipper open. She could peruse, giving in to the creepy behavior his proximity on the bed seems to awake, but before she does, she walks away, again. Scattered over the coffee tables are some of his belongings. His tablet here, his laptop there, a fountain pen clipped to the leather lid of a notebook... If she suspends her belief for a second, she could almost see this as a place they both share in the long run. Like flatmates of sorts. Or a couple living together. This is definitely getting out of hand, she concludes, forcing herself to return to reality.

When the milk is nicely warm, she switches off the stove, pours it into a mug, and takes it to the dining table. She takes a seat and slowly sips. Her gaze focuses somewhere on the outside through the front windows. The faintest sounds of traffic and voices reach her ears from the outside. With each sip of warm milk and her eyes mindlessly staring into the void of a dark sky, a renewed sense of exhaustion takes over, making her eyelids feel heavy and evening her breathing. Ellana yawns and her eyes tear a little bit. Mother was right about this, she thinks to herself, amused. She takes the mug back to the kitchen and washes it, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. When she's back in the bedroom, Mr. Harel has rolled away from her side of the bed. He still seems to be far gone in sleep. Ellana takes that as a cue to join him. If she's lucky she can sleep another two or three hours more before sunrise.