Playing With Fire || d.h

42. Fireworks Pt. 1

Your POV

Sex is kinda scary.

No, Dan and I did not fuck.

Sex used to be so easy for me. Maybe because I used it as a distraction, or lust, but I don't think never in my life I've had sex because of love.

Maybe that's why I'm so petrified of the thought of doing it with Dan. Because I'd be putting myself in an incredibly vulnerable situation, admitting how much I love him, something I've never had to do with anyone. It'll be opening a while new door for me, which isn't something I'm not used to.

Dan and I fell asleep cuddled next to each other, our bodies entwined and inseparable, his arm wrapped around me as I slept with my face buried in his chest, wanting to take in as much of him as possible. Even when I wake up in the morning, no part of me wants to leave. I focus on the steady ins and outs of his breathing, the minuscule snores escaping him. The way his chest rises and falls puts me into a trance, never wanting to think or do anything else for the rest of my life.

Too bad that sort of thing can't last.

Dan gives a dramatic sigh as he wakes up, his chest expanding and making me push my face back. "G'morning," he mumbles, his eyes still closed. He then squints them as if just filled with pain. "My head is pounding."

I chuckle. "For some reason, I seem to remember you calling me a lightweight last time we went to a party."

"Hey, that's no fair. For all you know, I could've had, like, ten times more drinks than you."

I laugh, then push myself away from him, crawling out of bed. I realize the only thing keeping me from being completely exposed in only my underwear is one of Dan's shirts, hanging loosely on my frame, the hem reaching just over my knees. When did I even change?

"Eh, where you going?" He demands, sitting up, the comforter falling and exposing his bare chest. That's where the shirt came from. I hope he doesn't notice the heat I feel rushing to my face.

"I'm gonna get you some fucking water and Advil. I don't need to deal with your whining all day," I joke.

"Aw, you know it's only because you love me." I open my mouth, then decide not to say what was about to come out. I just give him a pointed look, and exit his bedroom, closing his door behind me.

My first instinct had been to say, "Sadly." An innocent response, really, but with my overthinking mind, it would have meant a lot more. Even without the actual word coming from my mouth, I would basically be admitting that I love him. Which I'm pretty sure I do, I'm just petrified of how he'd answer.

I quickly pee and run a brush through my hair, pulling it up into a loose bun. I open the medicine cabinet and shuffle through the pill bottles, trying to find pain medicine. However, while looking, I see a familiar word that basically gives me a shock. Demerol. My pulse quickens as I drop the bottle like it's filled with electricity. Where the fuck did this come from? I then realize it must've been given to Dan for his concussion or something. My mind fuzzes over as I get the feeling I'm suffocating, so I hurriedly grab Advil and rush out of the bathroom. I fill a glass with cool water in the kitchen, and walk back into his room.

"Here you go, your Highness," I joke, handing him the glass and medicine. He pops the pills in his mouth and swishes them down with water. My head instinctively cocks to the left as I look at the now fading bruise stretching from his temple to his cheekbone. I cautiously place my hand lightly on the side of his face, his sparkling eyes gazing at me curiously.

"It healed pretty fast," he says matter-of-factly.

"Now that I think about it, it probably wasn't the best idea to drink while you have a concussion," I state.