Microwaved Love

15|

Sage is asleep. Already. And I thought I'd be able to squeeze at least a minute of hushed complaints, preferably accompanied by an embarrassed blush, from her about me going to bed shirtless and clad in only a pair of boxers, but she probably didn't even notice seeing the state she was in before. Some continuation of that neck smooching we had been doing about a week ago would have been nice as well.

She did seem tired, I guess. Very tired.

I keep massaging her forehead tenderly. Brian had said it helped people fall asleep better, and generally sleep well. Not that I care about her health. Or any part of her.

Okay, that was a huge lie.

But we're only friends. So being her friend I'm supposed to care, right? But since when have I only been friends with a girl?

Deciding that she well and truly dragged is down into her slumber, I pull away from her small form and lie down quietly on my side of the bed.

Why the hell is she so trusting, and really, just so stupid? Hadn't she seen how much I wanted her when she had walked out of the bathroom?

This feeling of wanting to protect her must come naturally from being her friend. Of course it does, why else would it keep leaping out of my chest and telling me to draw her into my arms right now?

All part of being her friend.

We're just friends.

Just friends.

Sage murmurs softly under her breath, and shifts a little closer to me. This makes me feel smug for some reason.

No, what am I talking about. Of course it doesn't.

Her breathing is so light, so her. Her chest rises and falls gently with each breath. Her hair is all sprawled out in silky tresses around her face on my pillow.

My pillow. Under my covers. In my clothes. In my bed.

No, that feeling of smug possessiveness certainly should not be here.

Damn it. Who am I kidding? We're not just friends.

But then what is she to me?

Just a girl who has proved herself slightly more interesting than the others? Maybe, a future friend with benefits? A delicate potential fling who I'll seduce and throw away later when I'm bored of her?

But she isn't even my type. She isn't sex on legs hot like her friend Becca, the one who kept nagging me to take Sage on a date. She isn't even the sweet, pretty kind of girls like Jodie. Sure Sage is good looking in her kind of way, but I had definitely labelled her as just above average when I had first seen her.

No, we're definitely just friends. I just need to get laid soon.

I sigh and roll over, tearing my eyes away from her and telling myself to get some eye shut.

When I wake up it's already morning. And there's something strange going on as well.

I'm not on my side of the bed anymore. But neither is Sage. One glance down and careful listening tells me that she's still asleep. Deeply as well.

Somehow she's curled her way into my arms at night. She's got her head tucked comfortably under mine, and the side of her face and forehead pressed against the skin of my bare torso. My arm is wrapped around her waist, holding her to me and my other hand is nestled in her hair.

I'm very aware of the heat from the hand she has pressed on my shoulder, her lips which brush my chest almost teasingly with each breath she takes, the soft curves of her body molding into me, and most of all, her legs which she has tangled up with my own, and the feel of the smooth skin of her inner thigh.