"I've found something worth feeling for." It's him. It has always been him.
***
Dakota wants nothing more than to be numb.
She's lost grip of all she has ever loved. At least that's how she ha...
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"You know we could always learn to cook ourselves..."
"Shut up, Addy. Do you want my f-ing nochas?"
"He's got a point. Five hung-over fucks using the stove in the morning doesn't sound that nice."
Stumbling foot-steps approach closer to my door. "Why are you guys all outside Dakota's door?"
"She hasn't gotten up yet..."
"So what?"
"So...someone has to wake her up. I'm not going to school hungover and hungry. Besides it's not like her, to not be awake yet. Schools in 40 minutes."
The muffled voices from beyond my door pound inside my head. Why are they shouting? And why is it like a million degrees in here?
As my eyes flutter open and the drowsiness releases me, I become more aware. Aware of the tempature, aware of the people outside my door, aware of the massive headache I have, and aware of the heavy weight on my stomach...
Forcing myself to awake fully, I look down to find a mother-fucking-head laying on my stomach.
As if not terrifying enough, the head belongs to Wyatt Hawke. A sleeping Wyatt Hawke, thank god. I don't think I could survive awaking to him being aware of- I don't even know. I'm just thankful to confront this with him not being able to say something sarcastic.
What a pleasant morning.
I must have been too far in my head to have not noticed that the door had opened, or the fact that all six of my other roommates are currently witnessing Wyatt wrapped around me in my bed.
How his head found it's way onto the flat of my stomach, or how his veined large arms wrap protectively around me.
Looking at them. They seem at a loss of words, or otherwise just completely as terrified as I was to find myself in this position a couple of seconds ago.
Of course, Toby would be the first to talk. "You guy's fucked didn't you." His face blank, a practical void of emotion. His voice on the other hand, loud enough to begin to stir Wyatt awake.
"Explains the tequila next to the bed." Cam's mumble wasn't exactly uncalled for.
Wyatt mumbles nonsense against my stomach. His lips warm and soft against my skin.
Wait- what the fuck, why haven't I denied it, or even pushed his head away? God, Dakota. Your making it look like you don't mind the thought of either happening. What is wrong with me this morning?
A painful pang of drumming in my head reminded me. Hangover. Yup that's the excuse.
Immediately coming to my senses, I pry a half awake Wyatt of me, as I spring out of bed. "No. No, definitely not. It's nothing like how it looks. Swear. It's just-"
