The Doorknob

The Cereal

I wake from yet another dreamless sleep in a haze. A separate part of my mind recognizes that it's dark, now - I must've fallen asleep sometime after work, after Phil...Phil. I lazily recall the touches, the kisses; we didn't go any farther - if he's a ghost, though, would that even be possible? Could we have? Did he want to? Did I? I decide not to think about that too much, because I know exactly where that will lead my brain and I do not want Phil to notice that.

Phil - whose arms I feel around me. The slow gears in my head finally catch up to the situation I'm in, curled against Phil's chest. His arm is around my back, holding me close.

"Hey, sleepyhead," his voice is low, affectionate, and it makes me want to bury my face back into his chest. So I do. "Come on," he shakes me a bit, "you've been sleeping for hours. Do you want to eat something?" I notice the emptiness in my stomach, almost biting, but I shake my head.

"Can I just stay here for a little?" I mumble into his shirt. It's soft, and I want nothing more than to not move. He doesn't speak for a moment, and I'm thinking I've won, until my traitorous stomach makes a noise, clearly protesting my lack of movement.

"No, come on, your stomach just growled at me, I'm not going to let you starve." I hear the chuckle, then he's shifting and a whine escapes my throat. His body shakes with laughter, and I can feel heat flush my face. You literally can't leave the attractive guy you're currently cuddling with for even a second - way to sound desperate! I hush my thoughts, but my stomach gurgles again and I give up all hope.

"Alright, alright, I'll get something to eat, I was just really tired, and comfortable." I try to sound annoyed at the idea of having to leave the bed, as opposed to having to leave the person, but I don't think Phil cares. He smirks at me as I sit up, allowing my brain catch up with my movement, and then stand shakily. I guess I do need to eat something.

Phil frowns briefly at my wobbly stance, but I correct it and begin moving toward the kitchen. He follows, and I bask in the normalcy of it all. Well, not that having a guy make out with me and sleep with me and apparently enjoy my company is a regular occurrence in my life, but at least he seems real. At least this exact moment seems real.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely notice as Phil sets a bowl of cereal in front of me. I munch at it distractedly, until my vacant eyes refocus and catch on his. Blue, with a bit of green and yellow, I think, picturing them far closer to mine. And then I realize I haven't said a word to him. I glance down at the cereal - which I've apparently almost finished - and back to Phil, now sporting an amused grin.

"Oh, uhm, thanks for the cereal," I manage around a mouthful, chewing quickly and swallowing. "You must be super..." I struggle for the right word, but give up and gesture toward him instead, "today. I don't think I've ever felt you that much, I-" as soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how they sound, and I drop my eyes to the almost-empty cereal bowl, stirring the few pieces around in the milk aimlessly.

"Well..." Phil smirks, the bastard. "There was a lot of physical contact earlier," he's chuckling now, and I wonder if he can see the shade of red on my cheeks get darker with each word. Because I can certainly feel it. At the very least, he definitely notices my embarrassment. "You loved it," he laughs, leaning on the countertop across from me. I try to ignore him, taking the last bite of my cereal.

And suddenly, his lips are next to my ear. "You want to do it more," and I hear the seductive tone in his voice. If he was joking, my body did not get the memo - I nearly choke on my cereal, and suddenly my face isn't the only thing blood is rushing to.