"There's something so fascinating about your innocence," he breathes, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. "It's a shame my own darkness is going to destroy it. However, I think I might enjoy the act of doing so."
Being rebo...
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•12.2.19 - 3 PM EST • To Wattpad and Radish
Word Count: 1645
~Rosie
I run my hands along the duvet, my throat dry.
Time stands on the other side of the bed, rifling through the dresser. My heart flutters, my stomach turns over. Why did I agree to this again? I know why, because I'm lonely, and curious, and could do with a good night sleep, which could be assisted by the warmth of a body next to me. Even if that body belongs to my mate, who I shouldn't even be near right now.
I stare at his back. Beneath his inky blue shirt, I can see his muscle shifting as he closes the dresser draw. Quickly darting my gaze away, I concentrate on my duvet smoothing, until he turns around, tossing me a long shirt, which must belong to him.
He raises an eyebrow at me wordlessly. I could protest, knowing I have less revealing options back in my room, but I decide against it.
I'm too tired to argue.
"Turn around," I scold. Surprisingly, no protest, or snarky retort, as he turns around, facing the wall. I quickly change, not taking my eyes off him for a single second. Thankfully, he doesn't risk even a glance over his shoulder. "No touching tonight, okay?"
"You didn't agree to this just to say that, I hope," he comments, turning back around once I'm dressed. Balling my clothes up, I leave them at the end of the bed. There's that snarky retort.
"I'm actually quite tired, and I enjoy having someone to sleep next to," I reply. At least I don't have to lie about that to make myself feel better. Sleeping next to someone will hopefully give me a good night sleep, since recently sleeping has been plagued by negative thoughts and worries about what Time from my era is doing and where he is being held captive.
"Right," Time murmurs suspiciously, not buying a single word I'm telling him. Risking a glance at him across the bed as I begin preparing the bed, I see him watching me, the slightest smirk on his face. "You interest me Rosie."
I have to force my face not to react. "Why? Because I know how to fluff a pillow?"
"The way you avoid what would make you nervous is fascinating," he says, causing my cheeks to warm in response. I hate how true that is. "You have quite the way with words."
That's what he thinks.
Pulling the sheets back, I eye him warily. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe being able to sleep next to him without it meaning anything is a goal that is out of my league. He's my mate, and despite every part of me wanting to not react to him, that's wishful thinking. Regardless, I still slip into the bed, letting the coolness of the sheets lower my burning temperature.
