Burning for her

Chapter 38

Clara

It was still dark outside when I woke up, Abigail breathing steadily beside me in the bed. I usually got up around this time of the day, when the city was still quiet, no one depended on me or waited for my instructions. This part of the day was the only time when my mind was not busy with work.

But today's morning was a little different. It was Abbie's first official day fully moved in the house. Yesterday she unpacked everything, hung pictures on the walls and moved into my closet.

Abigail was still sleeping, her red hair splayed across the pillow, her body curled up against mine. I watched her sleep most of the night, watching her slowly breath, pieceful, calm.

It wasn't like this was the first time she spent the night here. It wasn't even the first night she spent here since moving in. But it felt different, the weight of the level of our relationship drawing up on me.

We slept together countless times before, but none of them felt permanent like this. All of them felt fragile, like she could disappear any time. Now, all of her clothes were in my closet, her toothbrush in my bathroom, her ballet shoes on the side of the bed and her suitcase put away.

I sat up slowly, carefully not to wake her. The apartment was quiet as I walked into the kitchen. The dark and the silence wasn't weighted on me as much as it did before. It wasn't heavy.

I made myself a cup of coffee, not hurrying, since I wasn't in a rush. I canceled all my meetings and work today, intending to spend all day with Abigail. I cleared my whole day for this.

By the time the coffees were ready, Abigail walked out of our bedroom, wandering into the kitchen with sleepy eyes and messy hair. She was devastatingly beautiful.

"Morning." Abbie murmured, clearing her throat.

"Good morning." My lips curved into a smile as I handed her cup to her.

She made her way to the counter, hands brushing against mine as she took the mug from me. Abbie looked out of the window watching the sun rise while I watched her in silence.

"I thought this would be weird. But it isn't." She turned to me, admitting softly.

"It isn't?" I tilted my head to the side.

"No." She shook her head, sipping her coffee. "I thought I would feel like a guest. Or I would be afraid of intruding on your privacy."

"But you don't?"

"No." She shrugged.

"Maybe because you were already almost living here." She was already spending most of her days and nights here. This wasn't much different. It felt different, but it wasn't.

"I was afraid I would feel like I don't belong here." She confessed, chewing on her bottom lip.

My heart clenched for a second before starting to beat again. I put my mug to the side, reaching out for her hand, tangling our fingers together.

"You do belong here." I assured her, looking into her blue eyes, my voice soft. "You always belonged here. Even when you weren't living here." Her pretty cheeks flushed. "This house was waiting for you. I was waiting for you."

I caught her shy smile before she turned her head away from me. "You are cute."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Stop saying that." I let go of her hand, walking away from her to the other side of the counter.

"Why? You are cute." She grinned, watching me set down the chair.

I ignored her. "Come here." I asked her gently.