𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

27 || Wake Up Call

Song: Gesaffelstein + The Weeknd - lost in the fire (slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Josie

The sun sets at sixth and the lights go off at nine.

I rub my palms over my eyes and read over the text message again, still not understanding a word of what it's saying.

I stare at the screen until the bubble turns into a blur of green and blink through watery eyes, not bothering to cover my umpteenth yawn as I pull myself away from my phone to half heartedly brush my teeth.

Not only had I woken up to a full bladder, a cryptic message and a pounding headache, but I'd had to dig myself out of the mess of tangled limbs that was Nico's heavy body.

I finish up in Nico's bathroom, dragging my feet across the expensive tiled floor before pausing and glancing between the two options I had.

I could either leave now and get some studying done for midterms before work or I could go back to bed.

The large, plush sheets and the cozy mattress stare back at me. So soft, inviting, warm and the tattooed man on his back, with the sheets pooled at his hips and his T-shirt riding up just enough to expose the ridges of muscles lining his abdomen was a bonus.

My eyes trail back up, pausing on the steady rise and fall of his chest. He's got a large tattooed arm bent under his head and his face tilted up.

Nico was naturally invasive, his mere presence was suffocating and oftentimes unnerving. But asleep, his ruggedly sharp features were softened. His dark lashes fanned across the high apples of his cheeks and his lips, pink and parted, looked almost pouty.

And by the time he stirs and moves onto his stomach, my feet are already itching towards the bed.

A few more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt anyone.

But the second my head hits the pillow and my eyelids flutter shut, those minutes stretch far longer than intended and I'm pulled into the warmth at my side.

Movement from next to me manages to catch my attention but I brush it off, continuing to snuggle into the sheets, only stirring when the man next to me rolls over once, twice, taking me with him until my body is flush atop of his.

A string of incoherent words escape my lips, but the man only places a hand on the small of my back. The metal of his rings are cool against the bare skin and I groan at the reminder of the atrocity that my drunken self had decided to wear to bed last night.

I had no problem with our current positioning. In fact, I'd even go as far as to say, I felt comfortable here in Nicos arms.

But that statement only held true when I was in my usual attire- an old pair of sleeping shorts, some sort of bralette and an oversized T-shirt.

Not when I was in nothing but the tank top and shorts I'd outgrown years ago. And certainly not one I'd put on without bothering to wear any undergarments.

But the hesitation in regards to my attire is no match for the desire to sleep. The drowsy feeling grows heavier and heavier, drawling me in until all I care about is snuggling further into his hold.