wasted times- s.r

FIFTEEN

When your eyes flutter open the next morning, it takes a minute for you to register that there's another presence in your bed, and you're head is pressed right against its chest with its arms around you. Once your morning haziness wears off, memories of last night flood gradually into your mind, and you pinch your eyes shut. He's still sleeping, and you carefully pry yourself off him to get a good look at him, and he somehow looks even more perfect when he's asleep, which you find completely unfair. 

You aren't sure how to feel about the events of last night, especially since you don't exactly know where things will go from here. You don't regret it, but you arent sure if he does, and that terrifies you. Your entire body tenses when Spencer lets out a quiet groan, his hands moving up to rub his eyes while he adjusts to the sudden brightness in your bedroom. His eyes slowly flutter open, and he's gone into panic-mode when he doesn't immediately recognize his surroundings, sitting upright in your bed and glancing around the room hastily. 

When his eyes land on you, his body relaxes slightly, but with one look at both of you half-naked in your bed, his eyes go wide and he moves his hands up to rub at his temples. You aren't really hungover, you just have a small headache, but you aren't sure how the alcohol was affecting him. He wordlessly stands up out of your bed and begins dressing in the clothes he came in last night, half-buttoning his shirt and not bothering to tuck it into his pants.

You don't even have time to question why he's leaving before he's dashing out of your room, and you're quick to follow after him as he's rushing to slide on his shoes. "I, uh, need to go." You're ready to voice your objections, but the door has already been swung open and he's already speed-walking out of it without another word. You peek your head out the door and watch him disappear as he turns the corner, and you stay frozen in place.

"What the hell just happened?" You murmur to yourself in slight disbelief. You feel a pit at the bottom of your stomach by just thinking about the look of pure horror on his face when he woke up next to you like he was horrified at the fact he actually slept with you. It was a complete contrast to the version of himself you saw last night, and you feel stupid for thinking that one night was all it would take for your relationship with him to do a full one-eighty.

You shut and lock the door behind you, walking into your kitchen and going into auto-pilot as you start the coffee machine, perching yourself up on the counter while you wait for it to brew. Memories from last night occupy your mind as you think about how he kissed you for the first time in this exact spot, the nearly-empty alcohol bottle sitting on the counter as a reminder to torment you for letting your guard down.

You snatch the bottle off the counter and dump the small remainder in the sink, aggressively tossing it in the garbage can, hearing a small crack from the force which you tossed it in at. You grab a mug from the cabinet, pouring some coffee in and adding creamer and sugar, sitting on the couch crisscrossed as you sip it. You place the cup in the sink and pause momentarily, the distant sound of your phone ringing causing you to jog into your room to answer it. You lunge at the dresser to grab it, quickly answering before it could get sent to voicemail and bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Sorry to disturb your weekend, but a case just came in. How soon can you get here?" You glance at the clock on your dresser, shrugging your shoulders. "Probably in just under an hour," you say honestly. You hear him voice his approval on the other end and you hang up, tossing your phone in the middle of the bed and quickly stripping down to take a shower before you go, blowdrying your hair and throwing it into a ponytail to avoid styling it.

You change into a pair of black slacks with an olive green tank top that has a square neckline and thick straps, adding on a black jacket on top and a few necklaces. You do some light makeup on your face in an attempt to cover up your dark circles as best you can, sliding on a pair of leather-heeled booties and tossing random shit into a go-bag. Deciding you still have enough time, you toss a bagel into the toaster and eat it quickly on your way down to your car, dusting the crumbs off your pants as you begin to drive to work.