Mafia Dreamer

Chapter 8

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, warming his face as he stirred from his sleep. It was quiet in the room save for the gentle hum of the air conditioner. The sheets were warm and silky against his skin, and he never wanted to move again.

There's a small weight upon his chest and he looks down to see chestnut curls sprawled underneath him on the bed. He's more alert when he notices that it's definitely Zendaya who is sound asleep on top of him, her light snoring giving him a pretty good guess.

He had been drinking last night, that much was obvious, judging from the familiar throb in his temples that a heralded a vicious hangover. His mouth was dry, and when he sat up, he felt dizzy and needed a moment to make sense of his surroundings.

Zendaya woke after she noticed her pillow was no longer under her head, she mumbled a few incomprehensible words before wiping the sleep from her eyes. She gave him a small smile, and Val was even more dumbstruck than before. What happened last night?

"You were drunk. The guys called me to take care of you and that's kind of how we ended up here." She answered, as if reading his mind.

"...Okay, what else?" That couldn't have been all there was to the story, could it?

She hesitated for a moment. "Why don't I explain it all over some breakfast?" That was music to his ears, she knew that he wouldn't say 'no' on an empty stomach. "Go ahead and shower and I'll meet you downstairs."

He stumbled out of bed, and nearly tripped over one of her Jordans and cursed under his breath. The sudden movement made his head spin again and he grabbed the wall for support.

"Can you make it to the bathroom?" Zendaya watched, worried that he might hurt himself if he was stumbling this much.

"Yeah." He waved off. He gathered his wits and walked the rest of the way with his head held high. She smirked shaking her head, he always had to put up this front like he was such a macho man.

The shower had soothed the aches and pains but it didn't clear his head, as he wondered why she was so cheery, especially in the morning. He didn't know what he could've done to have her back in his arms but there she was next to him in his bed, he needed answers and he needed them now.

Finally, he was downstairs to see Zendaya in front of the stove, scrambling what looked to be eggs. He slowly walked behind her and placed his whiskered chin on her shoulder and rested his hands low on her hips, while she added a few chopped bell peppers to the pan.

"So, do you mind telling me exactly what happened last night?" It felt really good to have her back in his arms, especially when he was in his right mind.

"I will." She leaned her back onto his broad chest and giggled when he playfully nibbled on her neck. "Go sit down at the table first." She demanded.

He sat down at the table to see scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, two pills of ibuprofen, and a tall glass of water in front of him. He took a bite out of his eggs while he waited expectantly for Zendaya to tell him what had happened last night.

She took the seat directly in front of him, the anticipation nearly killing him.

"Last night you called me- well, more like drunk dialed me and you said some things." She won't look him directly in the eye, almost as if she's embarrassed for him and it gives him all the inclination that there's much more to tell.

He was glad things seemed to be back to normal. He was just embarrassed that he needed to be intoxicated to work up the nerve for things to get back like this.

"What else?" He downs the pills and chugs on the water.

"Maks begged me to try to calm you down, he said you wouldn't stop asking for me." She finally faces him before shrugging. "You told me that you were scared I would get hurt and mad at yourself for not trying to make things work."