Supernova Souls - Ryan Upchurch

-39-

Delilah flicked the switch on the wall and light bloomed over her head, the newfound brightness shining so much to the point her eyes almost hurt- they weren't adjusted to any sort of light this bright since she'd been outside in the quaint darkness for so long.

The sheets on the bed were disheveled, much like she assumed she herself was by now, the corner falling out onto the floor and the pillows out of place. She noticed her bralette on the hardwood by his dresser, discarded, and then her eyes darted to where her panties were- on the bedpost, stuck in place by one leg hole that had gotten caught there. His boxers and her shorts were kicked off by the edge of the bed, halfway covered by the falling bedspread. On the nightstand by his side of the bed was his phone that laid there, screen black and on do not disturb next to the lamp that was turned off. Her phone was laying next to his, also there because of its uselessness to her.

Then she noticed a busted up guitar leaning against the wall, and the signatures lazily spread about over the beautiful brown wood that looked red beneath the warm lighting. It had the front facing the wall so she could only see the back, but it looked gorgeous. Hell, everything he had looked nice to her. A lot of things did. Being raised up poor made you appreciate things upper class people would simply look over like the thing in question was nothing.

A cool, gentle gust of wind brushed past her and she looked up, her eyes being met with the ceiling fan spinning around on low creating a comfortable, soft breeze. She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. The bed dipped and creaked beneath her and she wondered how she never noticed the creaks the bed let out at the slightest movement earlier. Surely she would've heard that.

But no, she didn't. She only heard it now because the room was quiet, void of any speech or barking dogs or handsome redheads with thick, raspy southern drawls.

"Waylon, come on.. oh you stupid fuckin'-"

Delilah laughed quietly. Ryan's voice echoed through the house whenever he yelled at the dogs in desperate attempts to get them in the house. The clacking of untamed puppy claws sounded against the pristine hardwood floors before Ranger came running inside the bedroom. He ran in a circle, panting heavily with his tongue hanging out of his mouth and ran back through the door and presumably out to Ryan.

"Ranger, no! Damn it."

She could practically see it now.

Ryan standing there at the front door holding it open with one hand, palm flat against the dark wood, and his other hand at his face, nose pinched between his forefinger and thumb while he yelled at the dogs in his nicest get-your-ass-in-this-house voice he could muster.

She thought about offering to help get the dogs inside but she knew if she asked he'd simply deny her and tell her to go lay down and that'd he'd be there soon, or maybe he would just say 'I got it' and turn his head back to the open door.

So she did just that.

She raised the covers and slipped beneath them, scooting over to what she assumed was her side of his bed. She pulled the bedspread up to her chin and closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of the big king sized bed. She sunk down into the comfy, pillowy mattress and she felt sleep coming to take over her body. She fought it for as long as she could, determined to be awake by the time Ryan came in but after five minutes she couldn't hold her eyes open and fight sleep back any longer, and off to a light, dreamless sleep she went.

                                         —
Ryan smiled to himself when he saw Delilah curled up in the middle of his bed. Ranger was laying behind her with his head on top of her covered up feet, fast asleep, and Waylon was at the foot of the bed supposedly keeping watch for threats that didn't exist. Mary Jane was off somewhere in the living room, probably sleeping on the couch for all Ryan knew.

He flicked the light switch on the wall and the room went dark again, then closed the curtains so the room was perfectly pitch black- just how he liked it every night. Delilah stirred when he turned the light off. "Mm.. Ryan?" Delilah's voice was quiet and filled with sleep. "Where are you goin'?"

"Livin' room. I'm gonna sleep on the couch."

"No."

"Yes."

"Can you at least lay in here for a little while?" She said, rubbing her eyes before she looked over at the man standing in the doorway. "Pretty please?"

"If you want me to, yeah."

"If I didn't want you to I wouldn't have asked, so yeah I want you to."

"Smartass." He grinned, making his way over to the bed. He lifted the covers and slipped beneath them.

"Move over."

"No."

"This is my side of the bed."

"Not no more."

Be that way then.

She saw the sly grin form on his face, even through the pitch black that was surrounding them. She squealed when he picked her up and pushed her over to the other side of the bed. He knew full well that as soon as he got comfortable she was gonna be right by his side, pushing him off the bed in her sleep but he didn't care.

He pulled the covers up over the two of them while she scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest. The rhythmic thumping of his heart beating beneath her helped lull her to sleep and he put his arm over her, holding her close.

Soon they both fell into a dreamless sleep, laying there wrapped up in each others arms.