Is this seat taken?

Good morning

My eyes slid open and I took a deep breath. I had always loved mornings like this: waking up to golden light leaking through the curtains, feeling the crisp sheets caressing my skin, held tight in someone's arms...wait, what? My entire body went rigid. It hadn't been a dream. Oh my god. I had to find some way of getting out of this position before Tom woke up. I allowed myself one final moment of enjoyment at the feeling of being in his arms, and gently lifted his arm from its position around my waist. No matter how hard I tried, he wouldn't budge. Disturbed by my movement, Tom shifted in his sleep and pulled me closer. Now there was definitely no way of getting out. I hated to wake him, but, "Tom," I whispered. "Tom." This time, I tapped his arm. 

"Hmm?" he asked, still half asleep.

"Tom, I need you to let go of me." No answer. "Tom."

At this point, his brain seemed to kick on, and his arm wrenched back to his side. I sat up and turned to see him looking more embarrassed than I had ever seen him before. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know-" he stuttered.

"You were asleep Tom, we all do weird shit in our sleep," I interrupted. He murmured something I couldn't quite make out, but I decided not to press it. He was flustered, and I didn't want to make it worse. I got up off the bed and went into the bathroom to shower and get ready. When I came out again in a new t shirt and a pair of shorts, Tom was dressed. 

"I'm really sorry about before Gabi, please forgive me." He had a pleading look in his eyes like the thought of making me uncomfortable was unbearable.

"Really, it's no big deal. It's pretty natural to gravitate toward another person while asleep." I tried to seem nonchalant about it, to keep the nervousness out of my voice. Honestly, waking up today had felt better than any day before and I wished wholeheartedly that things could be that way every day. But I had to keep myself in check or these next few weeks were going to be torture.

We made our way downstairs where everyone else waited in the kitchen. "Good morning you two," Tom's mom said cheerfully, "breakfast is almost done. Did you sleep well?"

At this, my cheeks reddened and Tom and I looked away from each other. There were mumbled "Fine."s from both of us as we sat down. Breakfast was served: tea and biscuits with a lovely assortment of fruit. Our conversation picked up where it had left off the night before, and the incident earlier that morning faded into nothing but an unpleasant memory.

After breakfast, I helped Tom's mother with the dishes and Tom disappeared into his room claiming there was something he had to do. When he returned, he held a picnic basket like those that I had seen in so many movies. "Come on," he commanded, "We're going on a walk." He smiled that goofy smile that I loved so much, but it did nothing to soften the strain in his eyes. 

I agreed to the walk, excited to see the countryside and eager to be out of the small house. We started down the hill toward the tree-line and soon entered the woods. Everything was so alive, like some sort of fantasy forest. We trudged on in silence, for several minutes, and I could tell something was really bothering Tom. What was he thinking behind those panicked eyes?