March 9th, 2014
The first thing Dru was aware of was the dry, furry feeling in her mouth, followed swiftly by an unfamiliar pounding sensation in her head. Was she ill" It seemed to take an age to pry her eyes open, wincing at the glare of sunlight even through the curtains, slow to recognize the decor of her own bedroom at Willow Manor. And even slower to realize that the warmth at her back wasn't Asha, Lena's cat, but a male body, apparently topless, pressed close against her, their hands linked at her navel. Stifling a groan, she turned her head carefully, peering through her hair to discover just who it was sharing her bed.
As for the young man beside her, who was just barely out of his teens, his face was a familiar one. Long, dark lashes brushed his cheeks, closed lids hiding light blue eyes. His face was still and peaceful in his sleep, no hint at what he might be thinking or dreaming, lips slightly parted, a light stubble of growth against his chin and cheeks. It was a face she knew well - the face of a young man she had only met a few weeks prior, but had grown quickly close to. A young man to whom she had expressed her love only a few short hours before under the influence of a shared bottle of raspberry vodka.
Despite the pounding in her head, she found herself smiling at the sight of Josh sleeping so peacefully beside her, curled up close under the warm weight of the covers. The embarrassment trying to make itself known as she made a mental note of her clothes - or lack thereof, dependent on your perception - was pushed aside in favor of attempting to recall just how they'd ended up half-dressed and in bed together. What had she done last night"
There were few clues to tell her what had happened the night before, other than the lack of half their clothing and the hangover that was the result of the game they'd played together. Despite the overindulgence in vodka and overabundance of hormones, it seemed they hadn't gotten too far before they'd passed out, somehow mysteriously managing to get from the couch to the bed.
Very carefully, she twisted under the wrap of his arm, rolling herself to face him in the quiet warmth of the bed. Yes, he was definitely without a shirt. And my goodness, what a distracting view he presented for a long moment before she pulled herself together. Ogling the man while he was asleep wasn't appropriate, it was creepy. Raising her eyes to his face once again, she traced her fingertips against his cheek, a little lost in her admiration of the young man she was developing softer feelings for all the time. Gently, she inched forward to kiss him very softly, nuzzling close. Wouldn't this be wonderful to wake up to for the rest of her life"
Like a male version of Sleepy Beauty awoken by a kiss, though it was the princess who was doing the kissing this time around, he stirred from sleep, his unconscious mind registering that kiss and smiling sweetly. "Dru..." he whispered dreamily, as if he knew that kiss and recognized those lips without looking. He kissed her back, blue eyes slowing opening to look up at the girl of his dreams. The night before was slow in coming back to him, and he was slow to realize where they were and how they gotten there, but none of that seemed to matter just yet. She was there with him, just where he wanted her, forever and always. He smiled up at her to greet the day, the hangover not quite making itself known just yet. It was like he was still drunk, but drunk on love, not vodka.
It was difficult to be shy when it felt so comfortable, so safe, so right, to have woken up in his arms and to kiss him to wakefulness, however inappropriate it actually might be. She smiled in return as he whispered her name and kissed her once again, nose to nose in the first fuzzy stirrings of consciousness. "Good morning, sweetheart."
"Morning, Princess," he replied, a little groggily, remembering most of what had transpired the previous night. It seemed as though he had only just curled up beside her and she'd told him she loved him, but whether it had been the vodka talking or not, he wasn't yet sure, nor did he care. He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, finding her even more beautiful in the morning sunlight despite her disheveled appearance. If that wasn't love, he didn't know what was.
She certainly was disheveled. There were forgotten streaks of makeup on her face, and her hair was definitely in need of a brush. Not to mention the fact that there was nothing between him and her bra, and the treasure underneath it. Nonetheless, she nestled her cheek into his touch with a sweet smile, blinking slowly with contented sleepiness, ignoring her headache. "I think I owe you breakfast."
"For what?" he asked, struggling to keep his gaze focused on her face and not wandering over her state of undress. She was, after all, more covered than she'd be if they had gone surfing. There were bikinis that exposed more flesh than her bra did, after all.
"For staying." It was a very sweet reason to be grateful, but one she held to whole-heartedly. If she'd known he was having trouble not taking advantage of his view of her, she might have shied away, but she had a feeling they'd shared something last night that she didn't need to be embarrassed over. Obviously nothing had gone too far, after all. She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose softly. "Thank you."
He smiled, glad he had pleased her, though his reasons for staying had not been entirely noble. "Dru," he started, eyes bright with amusement. "I stayed because I didn't think I'd get home without passing out on the ground." Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was true he'd been drunk. Not as drunk as she was, but enough that he'd had trouble just getting up off the couch.
She giggled, though she had to stop fairly quickly because of the pounding in her head. "But you didn't have to stay when we woke up and came up here," she pointed out through her own smile. His excuse had amused her, but she didn't think it was entirely truthful. She had vague memories of waking up on the couch and the two of them stumbling upstairs in the chill of the night to curl up together under the covers right here. "You could have left then."
"I was half asleep!" he pointed out with a chuckle, knowing that even then, they'd barely gotten up the stairs before collapsing in bed. He had stayed, yes, but his reasons for staying had been in good part selfish. "I wanted to stay," he said, cupping her face in the palm of his hand.
The first thing Dru was aware of was the dry, furry feeling in her mouth, followed swiftly by an unfamiliar pounding sensation in her head. Was she ill" It seemed to take an age to pry her eyes open, wincing at the glare of sunlight even through the curtains, slow to recognize the decor of her own bedroom at Willow Manor. And even slower to realize that the warmth at her back wasn't Asha, Lena's cat, but a male body, apparently topless, pressed close against her, their hands linked at her navel. Stifling a groan, she turned her head carefully, peering through her hair to discover just who it was sharing her bed.
As for the young man beside her, who was just barely out of his teens, his face was a familiar one. Long, dark lashes brushed his cheeks, closed lids hiding light blue eyes. His face was still and peaceful in his sleep, no hint at what he might be thinking or dreaming, lips slightly parted, a light stubble of growth against his chin and cheeks. It was a face she knew well - the face of a young man she had only met a few weeks prior, but had grown quickly close to. A young man to whom she had expressed her love only a few short hours before under the influence of a shared bottle of raspberry vodka.
Despite the pounding in her head, she found herself smiling at the sight of Josh sleeping so peacefully beside her, curled up close under the warm weight of the covers. The embarrassment trying to make itself known as she made a mental note of her clothes - or lack thereof, dependent on your perception - was pushed aside in favor of attempting to recall just how they'd ended up half-dressed and in bed together. What had she done last night"
There were few clues to tell her what had happened the night before, other than the lack of half their clothing and the hangover that was the result of the game they'd played together. Despite the overindulgence in vodka and overabundance of hormones, it seemed they hadn't gotten too far before they'd passed out, somehow mysteriously managing to get from the couch to the bed.
Very carefully, she twisted under the wrap of his arm, rolling herself to face him in the quiet warmth of the bed. Yes, he was definitely without a shirt. And my goodness, what a distracting view he presented for a long moment before she pulled herself together. Ogling the man while he was asleep wasn't appropriate, it was creepy. Raising her eyes to his face once again, she traced her fingertips against his cheek, a little lost in her admiration of the young man she was developing softer feelings for all the time. Gently, she inched forward to kiss him very softly, nuzzling close. Wouldn't this be wonderful to wake up to for the rest of her life"
Like a male version of Sleepy Beauty awoken by a kiss, though it was the princess who was doing the kissing this time around, he stirred from sleep, his unconscious mind registering that kiss and smiling sweetly. "Dru..." he whispered dreamily, as if he knew that kiss and recognized those lips without looking. He kissed her back, blue eyes slowing opening to look up at the girl of his dreams. The night before was slow in coming back to him, and he was slow to realize where they were and how they gotten there, but none of that seemed to matter just yet. She was there with him, just where he wanted her, forever and always. He smiled up at her to greet the day, the hangover not quite making itself known just yet. It was like he was still drunk, but drunk on love, not vodka.
It was difficult to be shy when it felt so comfortable, so safe, so right, to have woken up in his arms and to kiss him to wakefulness, however inappropriate it actually might be. She smiled in return as he whispered her name and kissed her once again, nose to nose in the first fuzzy stirrings of consciousness. "Good morning, sweetheart."
"Morning, Princess," he replied, a little groggily, remembering most of what had transpired the previous night. It seemed as though he had only just curled up beside her and she'd told him she loved him, but whether it had been the vodka talking or not, he wasn't yet sure, nor did he care. He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, finding her even more beautiful in the morning sunlight despite her disheveled appearance. If that wasn't love, he didn't know what was.
She certainly was disheveled. There were forgotten streaks of makeup on her face, and her hair was definitely in need of a brush. Not to mention the fact that there was nothing between him and her bra, and the treasure underneath it. Nonetheless, she nestled her cheek into his touch with a sweet smile, blinking slowly with contented sleepiness, ignoring her headache. "I think I owe you breakfast."
"For what?" he asked, struggling to keep his gaze focused on her face and not wandering over her state of undress. She was, after all, more covered than she'd be if they had gone surfing. There were bikinis that exposed more flesh than her bra did, after all.
"For staying." It was a very sweet reason to be grateful, but one she held to whole-heartedly. If she'd known he was having trouble not taking advantage of his view of her, she might have shied away, but she had a feeling they'd shared something last night that she didn't need to be embarrassed over. Obviously nothing had gone too far, after all. She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose softly. "Thank you."
He smiled, glad he had pleased her, though his reasons for staying had not been entirely noble. "Dru," he started, eyes bright with amusement. "I stayed because I didn't think I'd get home without passing out on the ground." Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was true he'd been drunk. Not as drunk as she was, but enough that he'd had trouble just getting up off the couch.
She giggled, though she had to stop fairly quickly because of the pounding in her head. "But you didn't have to stay when we woke up and came up here," she pointed out through her own smile. His excuse had amused her, but she didn't think it was entirely truthful. She had vague memories of waking up on the couch and the two of them stumbling upstairs in the chill of the night to curl up together under the covers right here. "You could have left then."
"I was half asleep!" he pointed out with a chuckle, knowing that even then, they'd barely gotten up the stairs before collapsing in bed. He had stayed, yes, but his reasons for staying had been in good part selfish. "I wanted to stay," he said, cupping her face in the palm of his hand.