Raw [#Wattys2015]

Chapter 19

I can't be sure if it's the pain radiating through my skull that woke me up, or James' sweaty body pressed up against mine, but either way I am not pleased to be awake. Being awake means that I have to face a harsh reality and I'm not prepared for it.

My body is mostly on top of his chest with my leg wedged between both of his and my arm draped over his chest. His t-shirt has shifted up above my hips, so I am naked from the waist down and without a blanket covering me, yet I'm still really overheated.

James' breathing is even and rhythmic, so I know he is still asleep. I'm grateful for that, because I'm not sure what I should say to him when he wakes. I know that he only let me stay here last night because I allowed myself to look completely pathetic and needy. He was aloof and probably wanted to throw me out by my hair, but being the gentleman that he is, he gave me what I needed. That fact doesn't surprise me because despite his multiple rejections that still sting like fresh wounds, I know that deep down he has feelings for me.

Even if we manage to somehow work things out, I know I don't deserve him. He is so far out of my league and way to good for me. I know I'll just ruin him, which is why I wish I could stay away from him. Despite all the fear surrounding my heart, the trepidation about our future and my complete lack of trust regarding our species in general, I am still drawn to him. I probably always will be drawn to him, no matter what I do. I should be grateful that he chose to push me away for the same reason I should be pushing him away, but instead the my heart has meddled in my life yet again, causing completely involuntarily actions to spew from me in a frequency that is embarrassing. My heart is irrational and has caused my behavior regarding our situation to be petulant. Despite knowing that fact to be completely true, I've still continued to embarrass myself again and again. It's as though I lack control of my actions and am unable to think like my normal, logical self. I'm needy and want him more than I've ever wanted anything before.

I am not the girl that pines over the guy that doesn't want her. I'm not the girl that stays depressed for days over anyone. I'm strong, focused and committed to my career. Well, I was all those things. Now, I'm just a complete mess who is begrudgingly falling head over feet in love with a man too perfect for me, despite his demons and his broken heart.

I angle my face and look at him, noticing for the first time that he hasn't shaved in a couple of days. I think I kind of love the scruffy beard look on him. Softly, I trace the short hair of his beard with my fingertips, gazing as his beautiful sleeping face adoringly.

The muscles of my heart clench, so I look away because I'm still not able to deal with the feelings of love for him. They're terrifying. Just as I'm settling my cheek against his chest, he lifts his hand and grasps my wrist. "What are you doing?" he asks me groggily.

"Sorry," I whisper back to him. I tug my hand away and he lets me, causing dread to settle in my nauseated gut. "I was just about to get up actually."

I lie to him, because I'm not sure if I should continue to lay here wrapped in the arms of a man who doesn't want me here. Being wrapped in his arms while he is asleep still is one thing for my pathetic mind to bear, but I can't let myself enjoy a pity-cuddle. Sitting up, I grab the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it back down to cover my naked bottom.

He sits up quickly, "Wait."

I turn, facing his barely open eyes not able to find any words to speak. Everything from last night is surprisingly vivid in my mind, so every part of my mind is consumed with embarrassment and regret. I hate that he had to take care of me after I openly flirted with two different men right in front of his face. I am completely ashamed of myself.

Goodness gracious. Who am I?

"I just need to know one thing." His usually smooth voice is raspy and deeper than normal as he tries to fully wake up. The sound of his voice like this was one of my favorite parts about the morning. My chest constricts at the memory of what I no longer have.