Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TWENTY-SEVEN
i told you so
•·················•·················• OF ALL THE times I found myself waking up in Isaiah's bed, today felt foreign. Usually, I'd be in a rush to get dressed and dart out the door. It was almost habitual; once the first rays of sunlight pierced through the curtains, I would peel myself from his side and roll out of his bed.
There would be mornings where he'd grab me by the waist before I had the chance to leave, pulling me back in to his hypnotism, and mornings when his eyes would still be closed as I silently pulled my top over my head.
But now, as my head rested on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, I felt no rush. In fact, it felt like I had all the time in the world.
Greedily, I drank in all his features. The freckles sprinkled like constellations across his nose, the full curve of his Cupid's bow, and his eyelashes brushing the curve of his cheek. It almost felt creepy, but I smiled.
He was so goddamn beautiful. And he was all mine. Wrapped around my pointer finger, tightly so, like a snug ring that wouldn't come off no matter how hard I pulled.
Absently, I drew lazy circles on his abdomen. I traced the hard planes with my finger, the hard muscle crafted by God himself.
Which one of us was luckier, I couldn't tell.
"Good morning," Isaiah said, his voice rough around the edges.
I didn't respond.
I didn't want to break the silence and ruin how peaceful it felt to just be here. No words to confuse things, no questions and no answers. Instead, I let my finger continue down the thin hair of his happy trail, dragging along the waistband of his black sweatpants.
"I said good morning."
Isaiah brought his hands to my neck and squeezed lightly, causing my mind to go absolutely haywire. Brushing stray hairs away from my forehead, he gently grabbed my face and pulled it upwards so my eyes met his own.
I reveled in the feeling of his fingertips igniting my skin, and slowly met his intense gaze. The light brown irises held lust behind them, and I almost squeezed my eyes shut so I didn't fall straight into them.
He really was my undoing, and that scared the living hell out of me.
"Good morning," I finally mumbled, attempting to sit up.
Isaiah's strong arm held me down, keeping me molded to his body. "Just stay like this for a second. Feels too good." His voice was barely above a whisper, sleepy and muffled.
