Deviants Fallen: A DBH Story

Chapter 57: Long Overdue

Bright sunlight filtered through the window, gently waking Clara from her sleep. She felt something heavy draped over her, and something warm and firm pressed against her back. She opened her eyes, the memories from last night settling in. Connor's arm was wrapped around her waist, tucking her against him. Her back was to him now, and their legs lay tangled together under the blankets. She felt her cheeks flush, knowing they'd probably been that close all night. But as she lay there, she realized that the first time in a while, she'd slept peacefully. No nightmares, no anxiety, no ache in her chest. Just a deep rest. And she was...comfortable, in his arms, to her surprise. Safe.

"Good morning, Clara." Connor's quiet voice washed over her, breaking the stillness of the morning.

She shifted, turning to face him. "Good morning." A wave of shyness washed over her as she looked at him, his brown eyes warm and tender.

"I monitored your vitals throughout the night. There was nothing unusual. You slept well?" A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Clara nodded.

"Good." He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against her forehead.

The action sent another flush through Clara, and suddenly she was all too aware of the proximity, his arm around her waist, his body flush against her, their intertwined legs, his breath soft against her lips as his face lay mere inches from hers, and the slow spread of tingling warmth through her body.

Amusement flickered behind his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, and he pulled her a little closer, the movement causing her heart to beat erratically. His hand shifted, moving to her lower back, fingers brushing the bare skin exposed where her shirt had ridden up during the night. The touch sent a jolt down her spine, her heart stuttering for a moment. His eyes crinkled, smiling at the reaction. He was teasing her. Clara's cheeks flooded pink, and she squirmed away from him, creating some distance so she could compose herself.

He just watched her, eyes soft and delighted, lips pulled into a smirk. "Something wrong, Clara?"

"I..." Her words came a little thick. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I need a shower."

Abruptly, she stood, straightening her pajamas, and stalked to the bathroom, desperate to hide her flustered reaction.

"I could help if you wanted." He called after her, voice holding a hint of laughter.

Clara's cheeks heated again, and she was sure she was glowing red. She ignored him, shutting the bathroom door sharply behind her. She leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath, then splashed cold water over her face as she tried not to think about the way Connor felt against her, his warmth, the feeling of his hands on her skin, and the way he made her flustered. His face flickered in her mind's eye, lips pulled into a teasing smirk. Curse them for making him so damnably good-looking. Curse him for being so charming. And curse her for not being able to stifle her attraction anymore. The vulnerability of last night had broken down her careful walls, making it all impossible to ignore anymore.

Shoving the thoughts away, she quickly stripped out of her pajamas and climbed into the shower, standing under the cold stream as the water heated, before adjusting it to a comfortable temperature. As she washed up, she focused on keeping her mind and body calm and focused. In the events of the last several weeks, she'd lost some of the tight control, and she was determined to get it back. She'd need it for whatever happened next.