We Know Better

The Morning After

In the morning, I am curled within Brendon. My head is on his arm, his front pressed to my back, and his arm is draped over my torso. I am so warm and comfortable. My mind is on nothing, but the way it feels to wake up in his arms. The steady rhythm of his breathing tells me that he is still asleep. I see his hand from the arm that I am laying on and I tentatively move my hand over it. It hovers over his, so unsure, and then I gently let it touch his. First it is just my fingers on his palm, and then slowly my fingers between his. When his fingers tighten over mine, my heart skips. But he is still asleep, and now my chest is warm.

I am holding his hand, fingers intertwined and it is everything I could have imagined. My mind ponders over what it would be like to be able to casually hold his hand like this. What would it be like to be able to reach up and touch his face in public? Would being his partner feel like being with my ex? Would I freeze up and shake with anxiety? Immediately, I expel that thought. I do not think that I could ever be like that with Brendon, becoming his girlfriend would not change the way his presence calms me, warms me.

I stare at our hands holding each other and I think that maybe it is a sign that our bond is so deep that even in his sleep he wants hold me. My bubble is quickly burst when I realize that since he is asleep he could just as well think I am Michelle. He is probably dreaming of having her in his arms like this. Waking up to her like this is probably something usual for them. For me, I will do my best to catalogue how great this feels even if I can feel the sadness rapidly filling me up.

I am on the verge of tears when he shifts around, pulling me closer. I can tell that he is waking up and I find myself quickly shutting my eyes. Taking my hand from his would only tip him off that I am awake, so I leave our hands twined. When I hear him yawn, I know that he is officially awake. He stays holding me for a couple of moments, and then his arm over my torso moves away from me. I am surprised when his hand returns to gently stroke my face. My attempt to stay still and asleep is successful even when his hand ghosts over my bare shoulder. His thumb strokes my skin briefly before pulling his shirt that I am wearing back up over it to cover it. He rests his hand there and then I feel him shift again to press his lips briefly to my temple.

My heart is going to fly right out of my chest and I hope that he cannot feel it as he maneuvers away from me. Once he has extracted himself, I curl up and try to make it look as natural as possible. He disappears from the room and I shift onto my back and sit up in his bed. I remember everything from last night. The horrible, bad trip and Brendon holding me for hours as I cried or worried aloud about the thousands of paranoid thoughts running through my head, reassuring that every one of them were wrong. My mouth is dry and looking around the room, I still feel a bit out of it. I do not get to think too much about it, because he is coming back through the door.

He is clearly surprised that I am awake, but the smile on his face tells me it is a good surprise. I notice that he has on the same shirt from yesterday, but changed into sweatpants. In his hand, there is a cup of water and he holds it out to me as he climbs onto the bed. First, he tells me to drink, I desperately do, and then while I am doing so he tells me good morning, informing me that it is almost eleven. I finish the cup of water before letting him take it back from me and returning a greeting.

"How are you feeling?" He inquires.

"Like cotton," I tell him.

He chuckles, "yeah that sounds about right."

"I'm really sorry, about everything last night," I blurt out.

His brow furrows before his face softens, "you really do not need to apologize. I'm just happy you're okay. I was really worried about you last night. I blew up on Cal and yelled at him. I should really apologize to him and you for not being there be a level head.