desertion

177

LYDIA

Weekends off were rare. I couldn't remember the last time I'd woken up without an alarm, and even though I didn't have to go into the station today, my body still woke me up at the crack of dawn. The faint sound of birds chirping filtered through my window as I stared at the ceiling, already debating whether to try falling back asleep or just start my day.

It didn't matter much, though, because Mason was sprawled out on the couch in the corner of my room, still dead to the world. He'd come over last night after his shift, claiming he didn't want to go home to an empty apartment. I hadn't argued.

I stretched, letting out a low groan before sitting up. Mason stirred, his hair sticking up in all directions as he opened one eye to look at me.

"What time is it?" he muttered, voice thick with sleep.

"Just past eight," I said, swinging my legs off the bed.

"Too early," he grumbled, pulling a blanket over his head.

I rolled my eyes. "You're the one who wanted to stay over. You can't complain now."

His voice was muffled. "I can and I will."

"Fine, but I'm not making you coffee if you don't get up," I said, heading toward the door.

That got his attention. He sat up quickly, the blanket falling around his shoulders as he squinted at me. "You wouldn't."

I smirked. "Try me."

By the time Mason dragged himself to the kitchen, I already had a fresh pot of coffee brewing. He leaned against the counter, watching me with a sleepy smile.

"You're in a good mood this morning," he said, accepting the mug I handed him.

"Am I?" I asked, taking a sip of my own coffee.

"Relatively speaking," he said, smirking. "No grumbling, no glaring. It's nice."

I shrugged, leaning against the counter. "It's the weekend. I don't have to deal with anyone but you."

"Lucky me," he teased, taking a long sip.

We stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the coffee and the quiet hum of the house making everything feel strangely peaceful.

Back in my room, Mason flopped onto my bed like he owned it, propping himself up on his elbows as I grabbed a blanket from the chair.

"So," he said, "what's the plan for today?"

"Plan?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You think I have a plan?"

"I figured you'd at least have a rough idea," he said. "You're not the 'sit around and do nothing' type."

I shrugged, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders before sitting at the edge of the bed. "I don't know. I kind of just want to stay in bed all day."

Mason grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"Come on," he said, tugging on the blanket. "We've been running around nonstop for weeks. Don't you think we've earned a lazy day?"

I sighed, letting him pull me closer until I was lying beside him. "Maybe. But I feel like I should be doing something productive."

"Lydia," he said, his tone soft but firm. "You're allowed to rest. The world won't fall apart if you take one day off."

I stared at the ceiling, his words sinking in. He was right, of course, but it was hard to let go of the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me I needed to be doing more.

"You're thinking too much," Mason said, poking my side.

I flinched, swatting his hand away. "Am not."

"Are too," he said, laughing. "You get this look on your face like you're trying to solve a puzzle no one asked you to solve."

"Maybe I like puzzles," I shot back.

He smirked. "Not today, you don't. Come here."

Before I could protest, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. "We're napping. No arguments."

"Mason-"

"Shh," he said, resting his chin on the top of my head. "Just relax."

I don't know how long we stayed like that. Mason fell asleep almost instantly, his breathing evening out as his hold on me tightened slightly. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop my mind from wandering.

I stared at the ceiling, the faint sound of the wind outside mixing with the steady rhythm of Mason's breathing. He was warm, and his presence was comforting, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I should be doing something.

I shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but his arm tightened around me.

"Stop fidgeting," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

I froze, glancing up at him. His eyes were still closed, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

"How are you even awake?" I whispered.

"Because you won't stop moving," he said, cracking one eye open to look at me.

"Sorry," I said, relaxing against him.

He closed his eyes again, his hand lightly rubbing my back. "Go to sleep, Lyds. You'll feel better."

I didn't respond, but I let myself sink into his warmth, the weight of his arm grounding me. Maybe he was right. Maybe, just for today, I could let myself rest.