Addiction

chapter nine

HEY GUYS. PLEASE PLEASE, FUCKING PLEEAASE START VOTING COMMENTING OR SIMPLY SHOW IT TO YOUR FRIENDS. YOUR SUGGESTIONS HELP ME A TON, SO INTERACT WITH ME! TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, SORRY TO RAMBLE ON!
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HARPERS P.O.V :

Waking up I feel suffocated.

My eyes squint open and I immediately spot Blake’s hair smothered in my face.

I move my legs, but there tangled in with Blake’s. I’m only wearing my underwear, shit.

I shift my hands, but there wrapped around Blake and resting on his toned torso.

I inch my body away, but I find myself stuck.

I’m spooning Blake.

To even make shit worse, he is on the edge of the bed, so it looks like I’ve eased my way over to spoon him.

You did ease your way over to spoon him?

I automatically feel my face go hot and I only imagine it to look like an exact replica of a tomato.

I’m not going to lie; I feel secure, comfortable and warm embracing him but my emotions are consuming me, telling me no. Always have.

By now, I’m guessing it’s been approximately five minutes that I’ve been awake for.

My conscious scolds me.

Get up. Get away from him. No affection. Now.

Jolting from my twisted mind, I embrace the feeling of Blake for what I thought would be the last time before gently wriggling from his warmth.

Empty.

Cold.

Fucking stop.

"Fuck you," Blake sleepily groans, turning over and grabbing me back towards him.

"You’re not moving, I’m sleeping…shoosh please."

What?

"Blake" I whine. The annoying thing is that I want to be next to him, enveloped in his perfumed embrace. It’s just that my mind automatically denys.

Good girl.

"Get off buddy" I command and nibble at his arm.

"What the fuck are you doing A?!" he declares. You can tell, the shock has woken him up a little bit.

“You wouldn’t move”

“Arghh”

He nudges me away and I fall off the bed and land on his pile of clothes face first.

My nose is automatically overwhelmed by his scent that filters his clothes.

I’ve been smelling his clothes face down for almost thirty seconds now. Shit.

*Poke poke*

He pokes the back of my head with what feels like his foot to check if I’m still alive and breathing.

Mewling; I push myself up with rosy cheeks and explain my foolish behaviour.

With confidence I blurt; "Your cologne smells fucking amazing"

He groggily smiles and pulls me up energetically, making me swing over him, landing back on the bed...on top of his bare chest.

My breathing is unsteady, but he is calm and collected.