Color Me (under construction).

10. Morning Aroma

Beau awoke to an unidentifiable smell lurking through the still unfamiliar house. She stretched her legs and arms across the entirety of the bed. Her palm grazed the fading warmth of the body that should have been somewhere beside her. Confusion swept along her groggy mind, and she took a second to replay her night. As her hands slid along the sheets, catching the sunlight that spilled in through the blinds, Beau gasped. Along her collar bone and down her stomach she felt the ghost of his lips. His touch lingering between her thighs as a slick dew began to produce at the thought of him. She slid her hands down her pink cheeks as an ear to ear smile split across her features. The smell hit her again, her hand sliding down to her chest as she tried to guess what it was to no avail.

Awake and curious, Beau slipped from the bed and made her way toward the smell. She let her nose guide her as she left the bedroom and down the hallway. Her hands ghosted the walls as she walked, feeling their texture and knowing whose house she was actually in. As she rounded a corner, her bare feet met cold wood flooring and she bit her lip in surprise. John stood with his back to her as he worked over the stove. He was stirring something in a frying pan, and the smell of it hit Beau harder than before. It did not smell good.

Beau sat at one of the stool beside the island, her head falling into the palms of her hands as she watched his bare back constrict with movement. "You know how to cook?"

The spatula John held clattered onto the stove, and he quickly fumbled for it. He looked over his shoulder at her before turning completely, "No."

"I'm sure it tastes fine," she giggled. John raised an eyebrow and scooped up a little bit of the food experiment. He gestured for her to try some, and she opened her mouth willingly. As the food hit her tongue, Beau covered her mouth with her hand. She shook her head, forcing herself to swallow the salty burntness of whatever the hell he was trying to make. She looked at him, "Yeah, that was so bad."

"I did say I couldn't, but the try has got to be worth something."

Beau tapped her lips with her fingers, "Hm, I suppose." She pushed herself up onto the island and leaned across to kiss him. John supported himself with one hand on the marble and the other held Beau's head. The kiss was different but held the same intensity. Neither of them expected anything after the kiss, and that was a relief to Beau.

Although she enjoyed every bit of last night, she did feel a little sore - and never would she let John know that.

It was a good sore, though. Like standing too long that your feet started to ache, or sleeping in a weird position to make your shoulder feel funny. It was a good sore, a sore that made Beau know that what happened last night actually happened. She didn't dream about it nor was it some silly school girl fantasy. This was real, and she was here with John, and it couldn't be better than this.

John placed his hand on his mouth in thought as his head tilted toward the ceiling. Beau, too, looked up and hummed. "Yeah, the color of the ceiling does go really well with the kitchen," he said teasingly.

Beau snickered and shoved his arm gently. "Are we gonna stomach your masterpiece or starve?" Her voice was playful as she smiled up at him.

"Oh, actually that is garbage and I am taking you out for breakfast."

"I have no clothes unless you want me to go out in my dress."

He thought for a moment. In a decision, he grabbed her wrist and led her back to the bedroom. Beau was starting to become familiar with the hallway and the way to the bedroom each time she walked the path. As they got to the room, John dropped her hand and made his way to the closet. He produced a plain white t-shirt along with a pair of black sweats.

"The sweats are too small for me, they should fit you well," he said handing Beau the fabric. He smiled as she grabbed them, "You can actually keep them if you want to."

"If they fit, I'll consider it. I am a sucker for sweatpants," she shrugged.

He watched her as she tugged down his boxers and slipped into the black clothing. When she eyed him, he smiled and raised his hands in defeat. As Beau pulled the shirt over her head and fixed her hair, John turned to get dressed. He matched her with black sweats that fit him and a red shirt. The pair he gave Beau hung loosely on her hips, so she rolled them to make them tighter.

Both ready, they headed for the front door and out to his car. John extended his hand for Beau to take, her small hand fit into his as he walked her passed the car. She opened her mouth to say something but he just shook his head.

"It's a warm morning Saturday morning, might as well walk the small distance to the cafe." She allowed him to lead her as they walked hand-in-hand. The sun felt nice on her skin compared to last nights cold breeze. His amazing smell hugged her body through the borrowed clothes, and Beau was beginning to realize it was just his natural scent. He didn't need cologne, and she didn't think he actually owned any - he just had a good smell to his skin. To his everything.