The Vaticinator

11. The Taradiddles

I wake up from my blissful sleep only to feel another kind of bliss. The air is heavy with a pleasant vivacity, the sensations of which are incessantly overwhelming me on the positive end. I can essentially feel each of my muscles humming in compliance with the mollification my mind is under. It’s placating, not to mention downright relaxing. Who wouldn’t want to have such mornings every day? In such a relaxed and appeasing stance that even a simple thought of ‘I am awake’ can cause me such deluging peacefulness. As if I couldn’t have been luckier than I am at right this moment to be capable of feeling the irrepressible vigor of the palpable waves that are drowning my senses.

My whole room seems to be saturated by the pleasant aura of my partner.

I take a deep breath, enjoying this. Gay or not, I am not ashamed to admit that I really, really fancy the aura of my partner. I open my eyes to find Neal sitting crossed legged right next to me. His hair is all over the place, his t-shirt, no, my t-shirt that he is wearing is askew and his eyes are droopy, indicating he hasn’t been up for a long time. Again, I do not care how gay that sounds but I could really get used to with waking up like this, even if I have to see a man’s face beside me every morning. Neal is not that bad looking anyways. I resist the sudden urge to stretch my arm and touch him. A simple touch can make me feel ten times better than I am already feeling but I still don’t want to explain this early in the morning regarding why I am touching him. Not to mention that that’ll be just downright gay. I shift a little, getting more comfortable in my spot, and enjoying his aura cowering me in such concentration. My slight movement brings me to the notice of my partner. Neal turns his head towards me and sees me awake. He opens his mouth to say something and I prepare myself to feel his aura reverberate with his words-

“You snore.”

…And just like that I am snapped out of my peaceful oblivion.

Trust Neal to ruin a moment.

I roll my eyes and robotically get up from the bed. “Good morning to you too.” I grumble to Neal, making him chuckle slightly. I almost make it to my bathroom when my steps halt. I frown, turning around. Neal is still sitting on the bed, now looking towards my half open window, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He seems unaware of the commotion that has me frozen on spot. He soon senses my gaze and turns to look at me, raising his eyebrows at my frowning and frozen face, silently asking what’s wrong.

“When did you say your aunt is coming?” I ask him.

Neal’s eyebrows crawl up further at the question, “Ah, um, I didn’t. But she said she’ll be here as soon as she can.” He pauses, frowning, “Is she…?” he trails.

I nod, quickly opening the door and darting inside the bathroom. I reach my sink hastily and turn on the tap, washing my face instantly as the water flows down. I grab the hand towel and rub my face dry, moving outside to my room in an equally hasty speed. Neal is sitting in the same posture, cross legged, his back straight, slightly leaning forward, a stupefied expression on his face accentuated by his raised eyebrows.

“I can sense more therians in the house.” I say to him hastily, moving towards my bedroom door.

Neal immediately defreezes. He throws the duvet away from him, hastily getting up from the bed. “What time is it?” he asks.

My eyes briefly dart towards my clock, my eyes widening immediately, “It’s freaking past noon?!” my voice comes out as an annoyed yell. In my defense, I have never slept in this late.

Neal rolls his eyes, “We basically slept in the morning, Lichinsky.” He quickly starts wearing his loafers. “She’s really here?”

I move out of the room, Neal right behind me. “I can sense extra therians.” I tell him, “So, it must be her. Apparently,” I turn around, still walking, “She seems to have brought company with her. Therian company.”