Love, Emma

Chapter Thirty-One:

The early morning rays pierce through the drifting curtains over the window, lighting up my corner of the loft. Rolling over, I peel the curtains back, watching the sun cast shadows across the snow banks, the sheets of ice covering the trees twinkling in the light.

Pulling myself up to sit, I glance around the room, waiting to hear the others talking in the kitchen, or shuffling in their rooms, getting ready for the day.

Slowly, I get out of bed, cringing at the cold temperature of the air. After putting on one of AJ's old hoodies, and my fuzzy socks, I sneak down stairs, nearly wiping out on the bottom rungs of the ladder.

Seeing as I didn't get the chance to last night, I look around the cottage, admiring the woodsy, cozy feel of it. Everything seems to be wooden and antique, slightly scuffed and faded, but only in a sense that makes it feel more lived in, more comfortable.

All is silent, albeit the ticking of the clock over the mantle, and the soft snoring coming from upstairs, the two sounds nearly in tune with each other.

I settle myself down on the plaid couch in front of the fireplace, staring at the rafters high above. Lost in my own thoughts, I don't hear anyone else enter the room until they're right above me, peering over the edge of the couch.

My heart skips a beat in fear at the sudden appearance, but I smile once I realize it's just Nathan, rounding the couch to settle down beside me.

"M-morning." His voice is still rough with sleep, interrupted by a yawn as he leans back into the soft cushions, bending his arms back behind his head.

"Good morning." I yawn too, unable to stop what he's started, and curl next to his side, loving his warmth.

"W-why are y-yo-you up s-so ea-early?"

"I don't know to be honest, the sun was shining in through the window, and it just kinda happened." He chuckles at that, his body shaking slightly in an attempt to hold it in. "Why are you up so early?"

"An-ant-Antonio s-snores." I can't help it but laugh, finally being able to place a name to the rhythmic snores coming from up stairs.

"Fair enough then. Did you get to sleep much, with the noise?"

He nods, eyes on the ceiling before glancing down at me, smiling slightly.

"I've sl-slpet o-ov-over en-enough t-to be u-used to i-it."

Simply nodding in understanding, I rest my cheek against his stomach, feeling my eyelids grow heavier by the second, slowly closing in rest, comforted by the warmth of the room and the soft cushions around me, already floating away into a peaceful sleep.

.   .   .   .   .

Stretching out my arms, I drop them tiredly over my stomach, opening my eyes to the ceiling above. The smell of bacon wafts from the kitchen, drawing me further and further into consciousness, away from the pleasant nap I'd had.

An arm drops onto my waist, scaring me half to death in the process, until I realize who's it is. Tracing it up to a bent elbow, slim shoulder, and finally, his face, relaxed with sleep. I can't help but smile, content to lay quietly for a bit until he wakes up, trying to fight the urge to follow the wonderful scents trailing from the kitchen door.

"Is he still out?" Enzo collapses onto the carpet in front of the couch, a staggering pile of food on his plate. There's eggs and pancakes and bacon and fruit and it all looks so good, my mouth waters at the mere sight of it.