22. Escaping comfort zones

48.7K 764 9.6K
                                    

3 A.M.

"Fuck, why are you shaking?" he whispers, barely awake.

"It's cold," I respond. It was colder downstairs and the bed isn't that cold, but I still can't help that i'm not adjusting.

I'm almost certain he's asleep, but instead, I feel the bed dip and a minute later I have something set next to me. A sweatshirt. His sweatshirt.

He mutters something about me being annoying before laying back down. Normally, I wouldn't have taken it, but I'm desperate. I sit up to put it on, realizing that it's already warm. This is the sweatshirt he had on. What if he gets cold now? Too late. I'm not taking this off. Why are all of his clothes so comfortable?

I'm going to make him regret being friends with me because, by the end, I will rob this man of his closet. but it's alright, he's got enough money to not care... hopefully. I'm not usually one to use people's money for my advantage BUT it's different when they have very comfortable clothes.

The sweatshirt is soft, warm, and smells like him. When I lay back down, I have no problem sleeping.

Morning

I can't move. Something heavy is draped over my waist and my back is against something hard. I groan, turning around. Normally the loud buzz of the street below my building or the bright ass sun- seriously why the fuck is the sun so bright- wakes me up in the morning but today it's quiet and dark aside from the heavy breathing that's coming from me. why am i breathing like a man? that's concerning.

my face presses against my pillow but it's hard and warm and slightly uncomfortable. it smells nice though. like spice, woods, and something i don't recognize. it's probably my new detergent. i'm drifting off again when the heavy thing that's draped around my waist snakes up my back and something threads into my hair.

Slightly panicked, I open my eyes and the realization hits me like a truck. This is not my bed, that's Theo's arm around me, and i'm pretty much curled into him. I'm pressed against him in his clothes and his arms are around me and one is tangled in my hair-

How the fuck to you just casually end up here? What did i do to go from deciding not to talk to him to sleeping in his bed? He's so comfortable and warm though... okay, I have to stop. I try to lift his heavy arm off my waist but it doesn't give. When I can see clearer, I realize that you can actually see the outline of his muscle even through his shirt. God help me. I try to turn around again but his arm tightens around me- nearly suffocating me, might I add.

He's much larger than me in size, strength, and height too. I could practically disappear into him. He has the kind of body that compliments his height, defined muscles that strain his shirts, but not too bulky either. He wasn't exactly lanky in high school, but he was also not as defined and when you're pressed against him, you have no choice but to notice.

"Stop moving," he mumbles in his raspy sleepy voice. It makes the places we're touching seem more dirty. Does he know that it's me that he's practically cuddling? OH MY GOD- we're practically cuddling. It's so hot under the blanket that we're sharing and the embarrassment that floods through me makes it feel 10 times hotter.

This is also when I realize that his other large palm is splayed over my hip and part of his hand is on my bare stomach where the hoodie and tank top have ridden up. His rings scratching me lightly against my skin. My real skin. How do I get out of here without him knowing? i have to get out of here before i die of embarrassment. I try to turn around again and this time he lets me.

Everything around me smells like him. It's almost concerning that someone's scent could be engraved into everything so well, but here we are. I suppress a sigh and close my eyes. I don't want to wake him up and I don't want to be awake either. Plus, this is comfy.

IncendiaryWhere stories live. Discover now