My Favorite Risk (gxg) (txs)

Chapter thirteen

The soft glow of morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, brushing against my face. I blinked, disoriented for a moment, until the warmth beneath me and the steady rhythm of Scarlett's breathing brought everything back. Her arm was still wrapped around me, her hand resting lightly on my waist, and I realized I'd never slept so soundly in my life.

For a while, I just stayed there, letting the calm of the moment wrap around me. Scarlett's chest rose and fell against my cheek, and I could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside. Her scent—a mix of lavender and something uniquely her—lingered in the space between us. It felt like the world had paused, just for us, and I wasn't in any hurry to move.

Eventually, Scarlett stirred, her hand shifting slightly against my waist. "Morning," she murmured, her voice husky from sleep.

"Morning," I replied softly, tilting my head to look up at her. Her eyes were still half-closed, her hair slightly tousled, and I couldn't help but smile. She looked so different from the composed teacher I saw every day at school—so much more... real.

She gave a small laugh, brushing a hand over her face. "Did we really sleep on the couch all night?"

"Looks like it," I said, shifting a little to stretch. My muscles protested, stiff from the awkward position, but I didn't mind. "Totally worth it, though."

Scarlett chuckled again, her voice still low and sleepy. "Agreed." She adjusted the blanket around us, tucking it closer. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time," I admitted, meeting her gaze. "You?"

"Same," she said, her eyes softening. "It was nice waking up like this."

I nodded, my heart fluttering at her words. For a moment, we just lay there, looking at each other, sharing a quiet smile. Then Scarlett sat up, stretching and wincing slightly. "Alright," she said, running a hand through her hair. "First order of business: coffee."

I laughed, sitting up as well. "I'll second that."

She stood and offered me her hand, pulling me up with a gentle tug. As she led the way to the kitchen, I took in the way the sunlight danced across her face, highlighting her natural beauty. It felt surreal, being here with her, like stepping into a dream I didn't want to wake from.

While she brewed the coffee, I leaned against the counter, watching her move with an ease that made me feel even more at home. "So," she said, glancing at me with a small smile, "what's the plan for today?"

I tilted my head, pretending to think. "Hmm... no plans. Just you, me, and whatever we feel like doing."

Scarlett grinned. "I like the sound of that."

Once the coffee was ready, we carried our mugs back to the couch, where we sat cross-legged, facing each other. The conversation flowed easily, shifting from light banter to deeper topics. I told her about my favorite shows and the silly traditions my family had during the holidays, and she shared stories about her travels and the little quirks of her childhood.

As the morning slipped into afternoon, Scarlett suggested we cook lunch together. "I've got some fresh vegetables in the fridge," she said, heading to the kitchen. "How do you feel about stir-fry?"

"Sounds perfect," I said, following her.

We chopped vegetables side by side, laughing as I struggled to cut the bell peppers evenly. Scarlett teased me gently, showing me how to hold the knife properly, her hands briefly covering mine. The simple act of cooking together felt intimate in a way I hadn't expected, like we were building something—creating a little moment that was just ours.