My Favorite Risk (gxg) (txs)

Chapter seven

Scarlett's POV:

I wake up with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my arms. Last night went amazing. We got to know each other so much more, and our conversations flowed freely throughout the whole night. I know that there are things she hasn't told me, personal things. But I know she'll tell me when she's ready. I gently caress her back, while she sleeps laying her head on my chest. I can't help but smile to myself seeing her in my bed. I know I said I would never want to end up like my parents but for her, I might have to. She starts stirring awake and I kiss her forehead.

"Good morning sleepyhead," I said as I smiled at her.

"Good morning," she murmured, clearly still trying to fully wake herself up. We made small talk before I went downstairs to make us breakfast.

The early morning sun streamed in through the kitchen window, casting a soft, golden glow over the countertops. I padded across the cool tiles in my socks, reaching for the coffee pot. For a second, I thought about letting her fall back asleep, just watching her breathe slowly in that peaceful way she did, all wrapped up in my sheets. But I knew she'd never forgive me for making breakfast without her.

As if she heard my thoughts, Sarah's voice drifted in from the doorway. "Are you trying to start without me?"

I turned, grinning. There she was, leaning against the doorframe with her messy hair and sleep-smudged eyes, her oversized sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder. She looked like everything I wanted to wake up to every morning.

"Never," I said, setting down the coffee pot. "I was about to make eggs and toast, but I wanted to see if you wanted anything special."

Sarah made her way over to me, slipping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder as I reached up into the cabinet. "Hmm," she murmured, pressing her cheek against mine. "Pancakes sound nice."

I raised an eyebrow. "You know I don't have the patience for pancakes."

She laughed, the sound light and sleepy like it hadn't fully woken up yet. "Well, I do." She pulled away, nudging me aside and gathering ingredients like she'd been doing this all her life. I watched her, marveling at how effortlessly she moved around my kitchen like she belonged here. Like she belonged with me.

I poured the coffee and handed her a mug, watching as she mixed the batter. She looked so focused, her tongue poking out just a little as she concentrated on getting the lumps out. I reached out, smudging a bit of flour onto her cheek, and she gasped, swatting at me with the spatula.

"You're impossible," Sarah laughed, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. But there was a softness in her eyes, a warmth that made my heart skip.

Eventually, the pancakes were done, stacked high on a plate between us at the little table by the window. We ate in easy silence, legs brushing together under the table, fingers occasionally intertwining as we reached for another bite. I don't think I'd ever tasted pancakes as good as these, or maybe it was just the way she looked at me across the table like I was the best part of her morning.

"So," she said, after the last bite was gone, "are you going to take me home or keep me hostage here forever?"

"Hostage sounds like a great option," I said, smirking. But I knew she had things to do today, and reluctantly, I nodded. "Alright, let me grab my keys."

She helped me clear the plates, rinsing them in the sink while I cleaned up the coffee mugs. Once the kitchen was back in order, we slipped into our shoes, grabbed our jackets, and headed out the door.

The drive to her place was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence we'd settled into after weeks of knowing each other's every thought. She rolled down the window, letting the crisp morning air rush in, tousling her hair as she closed her eyes and leaned back. I couldn't help but glance over at her, my heart tightening with a strange, familiar ache.