Life behind the fame; A Conor Maynard fanfiction

Chapter 23

Alaska's P.O.V

It's the first morning in what feels like a year that I get to wake up with Conor's arms wrapped around me. My back against his chest just as I liked it.

Anth had luckily understood the reason to why I couldn't sleep alone tonight even though it wasn't the full truth.

I smile content knowing this is where I'll forever want to be, wrapped up in the arms that made me feel such safety you can't even imagine. 

Yet today is moving day and having this closeness with Conor is now going to get much more rare.

I stroke his arm softly, waiting for him to wake up so that we can have breakfast together before I leave.

This only to get met by an annoyed groan from him as I try to wriggle myself out from his grip to take a shower.

Turning around so that I'm facing him do I let my hand rest on his cheek, his stubble tickling my palm as he shakes his head slowly.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his lips lingering on my skin.

"Morning sleepyhead"

I let my fingers run up and down his shoulder, waiting for him to open his eyes. Oh how I craved those clear blue eyes right now.

"Mm"

Smiling do I feel him pulling my body closer to him, his hair tickling the side of my face.

"I feel shit"

I kiss his forehead, pulling my fingers through his messy hair.

"Headache?"

He nods still not opening his eyes, probably because of the hangover he was experiencing.

Honestly I feel guilty because he wouldn't have gotten drunk if I hadn't done what I did.

"I'll go and have a shower then"

I wriggle out of his arms before grabbing a towel to take with me into the bathroom.

My hair is dirty and I feel disgusting, like it's crazy how bad you can feel when you haven't showered in a few days.

I pull off my pants and my loose fitting top, collecting them in a pile on the floor as I study my naked body in the mirror.

It was a routine I'd had since as long that I can remember, my hands travelling down my sides slowly.

I'm quite petite, my boobs not big nor small. My skin slightly golden from my dads Italian genes. My hair reaching just about halfway down my back if I let it hang loose, something that rarely happened as I like having it up in a messy bun or a high pony tail most of the time.

I guess I'm quite normal afterall, not tall yet not short either, my height ending at a simple 5 foot 6.

Turning around do I watch my back, the water running in the background.

I pout my lips at the mirror, sticking out my tounge cheekily. Oh how childish I Am, like I'm twenty-two and I'm still not old enough to stop playing around in a mirror.

The water is just that perfect kind of hot as I step into the shower. I let it drench me, enjoying the time spent alone.

Stepping out from the bathroom, wrapped in only a towel do I watch Conor.

He'd opened his eyes yet they were stuck on his phone without noticing me where I'm stood at the end of his bed.

I feel a lust that I haven't felt in a long time and I quickly move over to lock the door.