BODY. ❪ eclipse ❫³ [REWRITING]

𝐯. THE ALTERCATION

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  THE FOLLOWING MORNING PAUL WAS the first of the two to wake up. The night before he'd fallen asleep with Bailey still locked away in the bathroom and he couldn't be sure if she'd ever come out. He was worried that he might have gone too far. During the kiss, he might have gotten too excited with the whole hand under her shirt thing. It had been without warning... he didn't even say "thirty-five seconds". What if Bailey was bothered by it? What if she never wanted him to touch her again? 

Paul opened his eyes and immediately his worries were dispelled when he saw Bailey sleeping right next to him. He blinked a few times to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating or even still dreaming. But no, it was real. She must have gotten into bed after he'd fallen asleep. 

He stared at her. 

She was fast asleep and looked adorable. Bailey was breathing in through her nose but out through her mouth and with every exhale, she blew strands of her brown hair out of her face and let out a soft snore. 

He noticed that not only were their legs somehow knit together but that Bailey was also holding onto his hand. She'd brought his hand just below her chin and was rubbing his palm in her sleep; the action reminded him of a cat making biscuits. 

He didn't want to move because she looked so peaceful; he didn't want to ruin the moment. So instead he continued to gaze at her while she slept, wondering how she would react once she woke up. Maybe she'd get red again? She'd been doing that a lot lately, which he was taking as a good sign... it was progress. Just like last night was progress... last night. 

Paul glanced at her lips. He really wanted to kiss her like that again. Preferably for much longer and repeatedly. 

Patience, dumbass, Paul thought to himself. He would have slapped himself if Bailey wasn't currently preoccupied with his hand. This was good too, he reminded himself. His gaze softened as he watched her sleep. Yeah, this is really good too.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later that Bailey finally opened her eyes. 

There was a brief moment when she didn't remember anything. A second where she had forgotten that she was in a completely different state, sleeping in a hotel room, laying in the same bed as Paul Lahote.

"Good morning." His familiar voice, a bit huskier than usual (his morning voice), sent a wave of blissfulness through her. A thousand memories spun in her head, tangling together—the most recent being the kiss that they'd shared last night.

Bailey noticed how close they were, their weaved legs, and most importantly how she was clinging onto his hand. She released him and sat up quickly, her face reddening. However, she turned to face him again when she felt the bed rumbling. 

There was laughter in his hooded black eyes, the feverish heat from his large body radiated onto her skin despite the distance she'd put between them. She observed the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into a wide smile.