Maybe It Was Fate

Chapter Eighteen

When I open my eyes, I almost scream when I see Chris. I'm draped across his body, my head resting on his chest and my leg strung across his. After the shock of the situation kicks in, I calm down. In fact, I lie there, hoping he doesn't wake up so that I can enjoy our close proximity.

A clock is placed conveniently on the wall, right in my line of vision. I glance at it, without even having to move. It reads that it's the early hours of the morning. I shift my hand from Chris' waist to just over his heart. It beats gently and evenly, signally that he is still in an unaware sleep.

The innocence of his face when he is sleeping is really mesmerising. The way his face looks boyish and young, his freckles seem more vibrant on his face. His hair is messy but it still looks really good on him.

My eyes scan over his face, taking note of every single feature, storing it away in my brain. It's strange how innocent yet intimate it is, lying beside one another. I let my eyes flutter closed again. It's then that Chris' body shifts underneath mine.

I let my eyes open again. Chris is awake. He looks down at me, his eyes searching my face.

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice raspy and husky from sleep.

"Morning," I reply, beginning to sit up to get off him.

"Wait." I stop. "Just... just wait a bit. Stay like this a little longer."

I try to hide the smile from my face but fail. I settle back down and look up at him.

"Wanna watch TV for a while?" he questions.

I nod, but realised that my back is facing the TV.

"You might have to switch sides." He suggests. I chuckle at him stating the obvious.

I lift the blanket and climb over Chris so I'm facing the TV but still cuddled up against him. I don't want to watch TV if it means we have to sit apart. He's warm and comfortable. Like a big pillow.

"Did you just call me a pillow?" Chris asks, his voice threaded with humour.

I feel heat crawl up my cheeks with embarrassment. "Well I am lying on you right now. I can get off if you want?"

"No." he says without hesitation. "I mean, if you want to you can but I just... don't worry." A light blush tints the tops of his ears.

"Okay," I reply, a small smirk playing on my lips.

I reach up and give his cheek a light pinch. "Is that a blush I see?" I tease in a playful voice.

"No," he replies, grabbing my hand. "I don't blush,"

His fingers, warm around my wrist, loosen.

"Really?" I say. "Because that looks like a blush to me."

He pouts. "Shh,"

I chuckle and pull my hand from his grip and place my palm against his cheek. I hear him suck in a sharp breath, but ignore it.

"Your face is warm. That means you're blushing." I smirk.

"You blush all the time. I've blushed once. This is the first time in my life," he responds.

"Wow. I feel so privileged to be able to experience this once in a life time occurrence," I mock, adding a fake gasp for extra measure.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want." He replies, a grin on his face.

I look back, glancing at the clock. Only 7:30am. Good. I think to myself. The earlier it is, the longer I have before Chris and I have to get up.

"Are you going to turn the TV on or what?" I ask.