What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

36. Comfort || Joell ||

"Turn off the lights," I groan, digging myself deep into the warmth and fuzzy texture of the sheet and duvet, which are so clean and rough at the same time. Despite being so deep under the covers, I can still see the light, just brimming behind my eyelids. Shutting my eyes for two hours can't make the aftermath of the aching go away.

The annoyance of being unable to sleep once more strikes, and so I get out from under the covers, fighting air trying to get my hair out of my face, while also trying to tear everything that was sticking to me. The uncomfortable feeling wakes me up faster than the blinking light does. I lay my back against the headboard, sighing deeply.

"Someone had it rough," I hear footsteps ahead. Turning my head to the voice, to see a fine man in a robe walking in, two hot beverages in his hands, with his entire existence God-given.

My stomach churned at his words, faster than my mind was able to process the meaning of it... Embarrassed, I feel around the sheet and leave my hands under my inner thigh.

"Your words have different meanings," I could still feel myself blushing.

"Would you prefer it had one meaning—" He gives me my mug as I mumble a "Thank you," before hovering over me, hand against the headboard, lips too close to mine.

"Once again?" I can't look away from his stare. My knees slide towards me, inner thighs squeezing together.

"Uhm—ahem!" I look down, fast, re-adjusting my hand on the mug, undecided, holding it in two hands now. I feel his eyes go down, so I ask...

"Did you clean me?" I couldn't look up. Still, trying to look at him as he sits next to me, at the edge of the bed, his back to me. He twisted his body, leg bent at the knee, with his foot resting on the mattress.

"I took care of you, as one should." He barely drinks his tea, so I sip mine. Nodding to my drink, we just sat like that and enjoyed each other's silence...

This silence is fucking kicking me!

"Just anyone?"

He just smiles, looking down, tapping on his mug handle.

I should've kept my mouth shut! The silence is worse than it was.

Seeing him move, I moved my eyes. Noticing he wore white robes, once more. They were lightly cuddling him; his strong arms, soft yet firm stomach, and strong waist; his body that was cuddled around mine, skin-to-skin just a while ago...

Remembering what I had asked him, I did my best to avoid any eye contact. He stands up and walks around the bed to the other edge. Putting the mug on the bedside table, he slides his legs under the duvet until his lower half is covered. He sits back, his back to the headboard. As awkard that sat around, we tried matching each other's rhythm. Giggling.

Seeing him eye my hands, I let go of my mug, resting one of my hands next to my thigh. In no time, he taps my finger, with a nod, and with a flip of my hand, he slides his fingers in mine and inches closer to me. My heart was beating faster. I wanted to be closer to him.

I put my mug on the bedside table, almost slipping my fingers from his, but he was quick to pull me back, almost halting my breath in my throat when I froze, his face a quick kiss away from mine.

My eyes shook in indecisiveness, looking from his eyes to his lips. My heart was panning against my ribcage. He rubbed my thumb with his, in our interlocked fingers, then I felt his other hand on my wrist. As my heart slowly eased, he slid his hand up, resting it on my cheek. A few gentle rubs, and he kissed my other cheek.

I felt like I was melting, already forgetting the other world. We both slid down the headboard. He turned my body, my back to him. I rested on his bicep, our hands remained grasped. His other hand is tight around my stomach. I rested my head back against him.