Always Fighting // Kyrie Irving

Inconvenient Timing, I Swear

Kyrie- 

I wake up in the morning, bleary eyed, and completely confused as to why I'm sleeping on the couch. Lifting my hand to rub my eyelids, I feel the pressure of a head slip from my arm. Sabrina. Glancing down, I see her, still fast asleep. I move cautiously, scared that the tiniest of movements will wake her.

Even though it's a huge sectional couch, I wound up sleeping on the chaise part, while she took the horizontal side, resting her head on my shoulder. A smile spreads across my face when I glance down to see the numerous pillows scattered on the floor.

For some reason, sleeping makes her appear tinier than ever, her gray shirt pulled tight over her stomach. Mascara specks dot her under eyes and her brown hair sits unhappily in a messy bun, trying desperately to escape the rubber band. I've never seen her look imperfect. Not once. And to be completely honest, I almost like her better this way.

As I lay there, I begin to notice little things about her that I haven't before- it's not polite to stare when someone is aware of it. Like how smooth her skin is against the muscles in my shoulder. How her sleeves are pulled up to cover her palms. The beginning of a tattoo peeking out from the hem of her shirt.

I can't help it... I'm curious. Perhaps if I move really slowly she won't notice. Carefully, I move move my right arm from underneath a pillow and slink it towards her waist. With steady movements, I pinch her shirt to pull it up her stomach slightly. I see the end of it, éternel but I can see there is at least one more word. Frustrated, I pull up more, trying to see what the phrase is. There- Rien n'est éternel. No sooner have I finished reading her tattoo, then her eyes flutter open. Wide with confusion and filled with fear.

Once they focus, the fear falls away, replaced by a smirk on her lips.

"Kyrie," she asks, her voice heavy with sleep. "Why is your hand tugging up my shirt?"

"I-uh. Well," I stammer, cheeks flushed. "I didn't want to wake you since you were still asleep. Then I saw you had a tattoo and well, I wanted to see what it said." I say quickly, spitting the words out. "I'm not trying to- I'm wasn't- I'm not.."

She smiles, placing her hand on my arm, which is still stupidly on her exposed skin.

"I know," she says softly, her mouth curled into a pretty half smile. "I know you weren't, I know you aren't." 

With relief flooding through me at the fact she's not storming out the door-because believe me, that has happened- I flop my head back down on the couch. I can feel her trying to lift herself up to a sitting position but every time she fails and ends up flopping back down on my arm. 

"Seriously," I say, wincing in mock pain. "I'll have a bruise by the time you actually sit up." Giving me a glare, she shoots into a sitting position, her messy bun falling farther down the nape of her neck. Her face loses it's seriousness then. 

"Ugh!" She exclaims. "It's way too early for this much acting-" 

Heavy pounding sounds from my front door and our eyes shoot wide open. 

"Is that normal...or?" Sabrina looks at me quizzically. No. No it is not. We sit in silence for a few seconds, trying to get a clue as to who it is, when I hear a voice. 

"-don't open the freaking door right now, Kyrie Irving, Imma come in there and bust your butt up. C'mon! Let's go!" 

Sabrina's eyes widen with fright, but my close with frustration. 

"Apparently," I say, with frustration. "It isn't that early." I reluctantly sit up from the couch and walk slowly towards the door where and impatient personal trainer is waiting for me. The second the door opens, he bursts right through, and pauses for only a second when he sees Sabrina in her pajamas sitting on the couch. Confusion is obvious on her face. 

"Sabrina, meet Jay, my personal trainer, who shows up weekly at eleven o'clock." 

Sabrina- 

Kyrie has a personal trainer that comes to his door ever week. At eleven in the morning. To work out. Apparently, by that time, Kyrie has already been super productive. Huh. 

He and Kyrie disappeared for a while, though Ky asked if it was okay. Like I was going to say no. 

It was actually wonderful, giving me time to think about all that has been happening. I don't remember much from last night. I'm almost 99% sure I entered a stage of delirium after the kiss that has completely wiped my memory. 

A faint blush settles on my cheeks when my brain suddenly switches my train of thought to how startling it was to wake up with Kyrie grabbing my shirt. Honestly, it gave me a slight panic attack before I remember where I was and who I was with. Though, it still was strange. It was so hard not to laugh at him after, when he was so flustered. 

With a sleepy yawn, I make my way to my duffel which is still sitting on the floor and pull out my phone to text Danielle. And to get changed. I feel dirty staying in my lounge wear. The true question is where do I change. 

I debate pulling a quick switch right in the middle of the living room, but with my luck Kyrie would walk in halfway through. Also, I have to use the bathroom. Frick. I glance around the room, wondering if I dare explore his house.

Screw it. If you gotta pee, you gotta pee. 

Somehow the slow creeping through his house, opening door, peeking down hallways feels like betrayal. I know I'm not invading his stuff, I'm not rooting through his drawers, but it seems strange to escort myself through his ginormous house. I'm a stranger in a strange land without Kyrie by my side. 

Perhaps I would have waited if I knew what time he and Jay would be done, but I honestly didn't have the slightest clue. And it's not like I can just leave to go to my hotel room. 

Another two hallways and a sigh of relief later, I found the bathroom and quickly slip in to change. 

___________________________________

I'm sitting on the couch, scrolling through my Instagram when a pair of arms snake around me. 

"Hey," Kyrie whispers in my ear. I feel a chill through my spine. He moves stiffly to sit down next to me and holds out his hand for me to take. "I'm really sorry about just leaving you like that." 

"No! No, it's totally fine. I came here to surprise you and, I mean, your a professional athlete. I know you have a tough workout schedule, especially with rehab." 

"I know, but still..." I stand up then, tugging his hand to try and pull him up. 

"Well, I mean if you really wanted to make it up to me-" A grin spreads across my face. "Food would be a good place to start." He stands up with a laugh, pressing a light kiss on my cheek. 

"You're really something else, Sab."