Etched

Chapter 11

Warmth. Warmth is what you need, you'd ever want. Even if you stay cold, cold to the world. Stony to their accusations, you'd always want the mellowness. No matter how closed off you are, no matter how much you pretend you don't need someone, anyone, any support whatsoever. Deep inside you very clearly know that you are desperately in need of it. To hold onto any substratum, any holdfast that could provide you satisfaction. A warmth that would make you realize that you are cherished, that you have someone who you could rely upon. To have someone -be it anyone- whom you may be able to trust, blindly at that.

A feeling of being in a cocoon, wrapped from all the troubles, all the worries. Cozying in the blanket of protection, knowing nothing would ever come to jostle you, to shake you away. A feeling that inclines you towards it, engulfing you in its presence, promising a silent support of forever. A commitment nothing has ever to offer.

Sound of a shutter and a dash of temporary blinding light jolts me awake, making me involuntarily dig my face into the source of the warmth. A satisfied sigh escapes my lips when a whiff of thawing scent fills deeper in my senses, washing my sleepiness away. No nightmare today. Wow. I raise my head to a very slight angle when my squinting eyes make contact with a stubble filled sharp jaw. A tanned, attractive and eye opening jaw. What a beautiful dream. No wonder I slept this peacefully.

Another echo of shutter snaps my head in its direction -wiping away all thoughts of sleep and dizziness- to see a grinning Ken staring at his phone in satisfaction. It takes me no second minute to realize what predicament I was stuck in. I look back and turn to see my head resting on AB's shoulder while he is asleep. His face peaceful as a young boy, his floppy hair messy, untidier than they ever are. His hair are always immaculate, usually gelled in a quiff. The strands now resting against his forehead. His head resting at the back of the sofa while he sleeps in a sitting position. 

Heat rushes to my cheeks when I see one of my arm resting in my lap while the other clutching at his shirt tightly. My strength of my fist crinkling he fabric in its surrounding. My frame is completely plastered to his left side, sinking in his muscled warm body. His cologne engulfing my senses completely, alluring me in. This is where the heat and smell came from. Holy, guacamole!

I unclasp my fist and pull back only to be drawn forward towards him because of the tangling of my untamed hair in his shirt's button, causing a hiss to escape my mouth. This wakes him up, he stares up at me innocently, completely confused just as a toddler being taught different colors at the same time. It takes him a little time before he grabs his stance.

He seems shocked at first before going passive while he discreetly observed the situation we're stuck in. He though, took three times lesser the time it took me to analyze my environment. But then that's me and he's AB. Polar opposites.

We both raise our hands to undo the knot at the same time, ending up brushing them against each other, eliciting warmth. At the touch our eyes rush to find the others'. His green eyes almost clear with specks of hazel being in their lightest shade, caging me in their grasping. His eyes hold mine in an indecipherable lock, open yet prisoning. 

 I avert my eyes when I hear a throat being cleared. Turning around from the swirling daze of the incapacitating green, I look down at our hands to avoid the looks and butterflies all the while my face burns blazing beet. Talk about cliché.

I lose the thought of removing my hair strand from his button, succumbing it on his mercy and being the first one withdrawing, while he very patiently and expertly detangles it alongside saving myself from a strand loss. All this while Ken keeps clicking pictures, earning glares from both AB and I. My burning face does no assistance to the already awkward situation.