The Pajama Kid

Chapter Five- Sweet Aromas

Will's PoV

I blink my eyes open, eyelids sticking together slightly- heavy with sleep.

It's dark outside, a gentle breeze drifting though my partially open window. My curtains sway silently, rippling quietly in the wind.

I snuggle back into the toasty warmth of my blankets, a gorgeous aroma of sweet oranges and mint surrounding me. My mouth waters slightly, my nose desperately inhaling the intoxicating smell.

I turn around in a confused haze, unsure of where the scent could be coming from, and bump into a breathing wall.

Freddie.

Staring in admiration at the peaceful look on his face, I begin to notice the solid grip he has on my waist. A gentle hand clutches my hip, soothing breaths brushing against my neck.

A heated blush rushes up my cheeks, my legs squirming slightly at the tingling sensation.

Freddie begins to stir, his head nuzzling into my messy hair; his damp lips brushing against my forehead.

I turn an even darker shade of red, reluctantly wiggling out of his warm grip.

"Will?" I hear him call quietly, his voice full of fatigue.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, before replying.

"Yeah?" My voice cracks, my body riddled with nerves and confusing feelings.

"What time is it?"

I glance towards the clock, my eyes squinting slightly to make out the white numbers.

[5:25am]

I repeat this to Freddie, a shy expression coving my burning face.

He looks at me for a second, a curious look on his face, his chocolate brown eyes softening. I cough slightly, the blush rising to the tips of my ears.

He startles- as if remembering something- before asking, with an apprehensive gleam in his eyes,

"W-What happened yesterday? I mean you just completely fainted and I just thought-I dunno- so I tried to wake you up and you didn't- you were still breathing but twitching a little bit and..." he pauses, catching his breath, "I fell asleep too, after a bit- sorry about that."

He scratches the back of his head, anxiously awaiting an answer; so I tell him.

I tell him about how I started to get more tired- for days on end-  and collapsed from exhaustion. I tell him how scared I was when I found out, how I pushed away all my friends and family. I tell him about the structured timetable that I had built over the past few months; how I wasn't getting any better. I tell him about my illness, about all my worries and bad dreams- as well as the good ones. I pour my soul out onto a plate, tears building in my tired eyes.

And he listens.

He holds me close to him, a soothing hand stroking up and down my back- his unrestrained warmth seeping into my skin.

Once I'm done, no words are exchanged- just a gentle hum escaping his lips and the steady rocking of our bodies.

I want to kiss him.

Oh god how I want to kiss him. To feel those lips upon mine- in a sweet, intoxicating dance.

But I don't.

I just stay in his arms, scared to break the sacred peace that he emits.

[...]

We fall asleep in that position, Freddie's hands cradling my head against his chest.