Above All Else

Chapter Thirty-Two

My eyes burn. Badly. I see the bedroom through one brave pupil, realizing that just taking a breath makes my head feel like it's swelling to the point of bursting. I lift my hand, squinting at my watch, seeing it's 7am. And although it's a Saturday, I have to be getting up.

I set my hand back down into the mattress, lifting my cheek from Mia's stomach. My arms are on either side of her, my body between her perfect legs. I have absolutely no clue how I ended up here but I'm quite alright with it. Both of her hands are rested above her head against the pillow, relaxed, her face turned down, mouth parted slightly in deep slumber.

I stare at the way the strands of her hair curve against her face, dark and spiraled curls, wild from our physical escapades throughout the night. My eyes admire her facial features before descending curiously to her chest, where her scar rests. Still extremely red and healing, I wonder if it ever pains her. If she ever feels it, where they opened up her up.

I never look at it, not wanting to make her remember it, or think that I care that it's there. I truly don't. I usually try to forget it's there as well, because looking at it means facing a reality that is incomprehensible to me- that fact that Mia's new heart is a temporary lifeline.

I look away, moving to get up, hoping that the fear that just ran through my veins will cease. I have no reason to fear for her right now. She's healthy and happy, at least I believe so. Last night was refreshing and different, something I truly believe we both needed.

I lift myself off the bed, walking towards the bathroom. I'm slipping a blue tie around my neck when I see Mia's hand leave the pillow, moving to shield her eyes.

"Ow," she utters and I chuckle.

"There's hair of the dog on the nightstand," I say, turning to look at her. She sits up, glancing at the nightstand, reaching to grab the drink. She's completely nude, something that distracts me from my routine within seconds.

I watch as she tries the drink, making a face of disgust. "Oh, no way," she mutters, shaking her head. I walk to the bathroom, pulling the Tylenol from the cabinet. I undo the cap, walking to her side of the bed.

She squints up at me as I extend my hand with two tablets. "You drank more than me," she observes.

"Mhm," I say, with amusement.

"How the hell do you look perfect after last night?"

I chuckle, pressing my mouth to her temple. "Good morning."

"Good for you, you mean," she says, begrudgingly. I laugh, getting back to my tie.

"The garden party is today," I remind her. She looks at me and nods, scooting off the bed. My eyes descend over her body as she walks to grab her robe off the side of the door. She, of course, notices me staring and I feel no need to look away.

"Why don't you get back into bed?" she asks, after a moment, holding the robe against her stomach. I press my lips together, looking down.

"If only," I sigh, adjusting my tie on my neck, tightening it. "I'd never let you leave."

"Just call off for the rest of the day," she says, moving towards me, setting down the robe on the bed. My heart is racing by the time she stops before me, twisting her hair over her shoulder. It descends over her chest, ending against her ribs.

She runs her hand over my stiff shirt and I hum, low, closing my eyes. "I have a breakfast meeting," I breathe, resting my hand on her bare hip, feeling warm skin beneath my palm.

"When?" she utters, softly, her lips against my throat. When I feel her fingers tighten in my damp hair, the meeting doesn't matter. The fact that I just showered doesn't matter.