𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

21 - Little Things.

“Hello.”

She loomed over him, still wearing that hoodie—that same smile, those same freckles, the same blueberry eyes, watching him awaken and curl his lips into a faint grin glowing in the sunlight streaming from the open blinds. A gentle force pushed her further, a soft one, him, before she landed on his chest. He smelled like the blankets, and the pillows, and his actions elicited giggles from her.

“G’morning,” he groaned into her hair, sitting up and sniffing the presence of lavender, “Darling.”

Darling.

She loved that.

She buried her fingers in his dark locks, just black, simple, not a hint of brown, even exposed to the sun. Nearly a raven shade. They flopped down sluggishly on to the cushion and landed in a messy heap of limbs, Aiden clutching her as if she’d leave. Although she wouldn’t. She would never. This was real intimacy.

She wants him completely hers.

“You too,” he felt that curve of her lips against his skin. He hummed something, before mumbling, “I don’t want to get up.” “We have to. I’m not a big fan of wake up calls.”

Elsa left his lap, dragging her heels in front of the vanity. She picked up the brush, and swept her platinum blonde tresses into a fixed braid, gluing the feeling of two arms snaking around her torso into her memory, and soon the kit was plucked out of her reach with a lazy hand. “You don’t need that, darl,” his breath was against her neck.

Squeezing his free hand, which was leaning on the vanity, she turned around to meet his near gaze, whispering a thank you to his ear for calling her beautiful, even indirectly—as glimpses of her high school days rushed in her head to recall the nickname “freak” because of her pale complexion. He closed the gap between them and pecked her lips, murmured another compliment which left her heart beating wildly, and that caught her off guard, but she liked how he grew a little confidence.

Which shrunk in a matter of seconds.

“S-sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?”

Elsa vigorously shook her head, “No, no please. I...” she blushed, and the blood rushing to her cheeks proved Aiden’s prior claim right that she never did needed to apply pigment to her face, “I think you should do it more,” in turn his face was blooming a rosy shade as she said this with full honesty, “Okay?”

His eyes looked away, his lips formed in a thin line, but he was still awfully flustered, pressed against her, the pamper kit still in his grip. Aiden nodded, bit his lip and moved away. The loss of contact widened the sudden distance Elsa felt, since she wanted nothing but to pull him back to her.

“Do you...”

She was listening.

“Do you know why I can’t allow myself to hold you and kiss you just as much?” he somberly asked, his smile low and suppressing his roaring emotions down beneath, as his fists clenched, and he could’ve sworn he would draw blood by how deep his nails were digging into his palm.

Slowly, Elsa nodded, intrigued with his words as she folded her arms. Aiden couldn’t afford to let her look closer, to find out how misty his vision was growing because of something he wanted to pull back. So he could stop being an enigma.