Andy "Dan" Fuyuhiko. A baker, crime TV addict, out and proud gay with no student debt, YET, and tourette's. With dreams of becoming a Forensic Scientist, she wants to make a positive impact in the world by solving cold cases and baking choc-chip coo...
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( rely • flor )
Several minutes pass by and my eyes are red and glaring into Macy's back as she sighs in contentment, having stolen the warmth of all of the covers.
I'm not quite sure what to do. I don't want to scare her or wake her up, but I'm freezing.
Slowly removing my arm from around the redhead, I sit up, my lower back against a soft white pillow and my head leaning against her wooden headboard.
I look at the girl again, stuck in a rut, before averting my gaze to outside of her bedroom window.
Outside is still cloaked in darkness, stars still twinkling in the night sky ever so brightly.
I'm not sure if I've ever been up at this time before. I usually go to bed at 11:30, 12:00 at the latest, and wake up fairly early. I've never experienced being up during the hours that memes are made of, like 2 and 3am.
"Me and the boys up at 3am looking for beans." I place my hand over my mouth trying to contain my laughter at the memory of the meme.
Officially deciding against waking up Macy, because I'm a wimp, I settle for grabbing the pillow that had been beneath me and heading for the couch, being careful to walk quietly.
Once I'm in the clear, I place the pillow against one side of the couch and settle under the exotic, colorful throw blanket. It's actually fairly thick and soft, making me feel comfortable as I snuggle into it.
Adjusting the position of my head against the pillow as to get more comfortable, my feet slightly dangle over the edge of the other end of the couch due to my height. As I get cozy, I allow myself to once again fall into the darkness of sleep.
***
Why do I feel so much warmer? Why has the blanket become so... smooth? Can blankets snuggle?
That's a stupid question.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I look over to see Macy laying on top of me. Even before I could see her, though, I could feel arms wrapped around my head, a cheek against my dark curly hair, legs tangled in my own. Not to mention I could smell her raspberry scent.
Shaking my head out of it, I try to focus. "What is even happening right now?" I mumble hearing, feeling, Macy's light inhales and exhales.
She's literally sleeping on me. She's sleeping on me. What do I do now? There's no way that I can get up this time without waking her.
