Atramentous: A Solangelo AU

Oh, Hush

I woke up feeling well-rested for the first time in a while, tangled in Will's long limbs. My face was barely an inch from his, swathed the in the early-morning sunlight that was filtering in from the gap between the curtain and the wall. It made him look like something that was frozen in time; a perfect photograph or an old artifact in a museum.

I almost couldn't believe that I hadn't jerked awake in the middle of the night for some unknown reason or as the after-effect of a nightmare, I hadn't tossed and turned restlessly for an hour just trying to get my mind to shut down or cried myself to sleep only to awaken exhausted because of it in the morning. I'd finally had an entire night of blissful, encompassing sleep. And then I'd opened my eyes and seen him, remembered, realized why.

This wasn't the first time we'd drifted off alongside each other, but it felt different. It felt like an assurance, like something special. Something drifting and settling, organizing itself into my chest. Something like that over-used concept in novels that sleep just comes easier with a second, welcoming presence nearby, but I'd never thought it was true until I had Will. I thought it was just a cliché with no backbone to it, no reality. (A lot of clichés were beginning to take root in my head, in my chest. As something concrete.)

Doesn't it just make sense, though? If a person can make you feel more happy and safe than anyone or anything else when you're awake, then why shouldn't they be able to do the same thing when you're asleep? It wasn't hard to believe it, looking at his peaceful features, the way one hand was tucked up under his cheek, his hair falling messily across his forehead and into his eyes.

I almost laughed out loud as I wondered what my Catholic family would say if they happened to walk into the room at that moment. The thought seemed funny, but I figured that if it actually happened it would be a lot less amusing and a lot more terrifying and awkward.

Oh, yes, Marie. That's Will. Sleeping in my bed. With me. No homo, though.

I allowed myself a small snort and then focused in on Will again, considering waking him up, but he looked so placid that I shied away from the idea of disturbing him. I was feeling too restless to stay put, though, so I carefully pulled myself out of his embrace and stood up, trying to cause the least amount of disturbance as possible. Will stirred, his face contorting as he turned his head into the pillow and pulled the blankets closer to him, mumbling listlessly. I grinned--carelessly, weightlessly, overly buoyant--and leaned forward to brush my lips over his cheek before turning and quietly slipping out of the room.

I felt light and airy; happy. The ardor was so pleasant that I fluttered down the stairs like I used to when I was little--both feet hitting each step before fluttering to the next, creating an off-beat tempo that echoed dully around the house--and couldn't help but keep a smile resting on my lips the whole time. Even as I drifted over to the pantry and pulled out our pancake mix; something so ordinary that it didn't even warrant a raised eyebrow, and yet there I was, smiling like an idiot at the bland off-white bag. I even considered doing it from scratch, the way Will had taught me, but ultimately decided that I was content being lazy and settled for doing it the easy way.

I went through all of the mundane steps, cursing under my breath when I tried to slip the spatula underneath the first pancake only to find that I'd forgotten to grease the pan, which meant scraping the ruined quick bread into the trash and starting the process all over again.

I continued to hum quietly as I worked, stacking the pancakes onto a plate. There were three finished and was just starting on the fourth when Will slipped his arms around me from behind, causing me to start slightly and flick batter off of the spatula and onto my shirt. "Wiiilll!" I chastised, smiling as he pressed his lips the back of my neck.