I woke to warmth and weight pressed in close against me. My brain was slow to catch up, still heavy with sleep, but my body registered the comfort immediately.
For a long while, I just let the stillness hold me. I felt a light pressure across my chest and against my side that felt too warm to ignore. A trace of his shampoo lingered in the air, mixed with something else I only ever noticed when Rowan was this close.
I opened my eyes and let my gaze drift down. His chest rose and fell in a calm, even rhythm, and his head rested beneath my chin. One of his arms was folded between us, the other draped over me. His hair was a little messy, flattened on one side and stuck out a bit elsewhere. A few strands fell across his forehead. His lips were parted, his breath warm and slow against my skin.
My hand drifted slowly to trace the line of his shoulder. He lay completely still and relaxed in a way I'd never seen before. Not even in his sleep. I could've stayed like this for hours just to watch him.
Last night didn't exactly go how I thought it would. The mistletoe was meant to be a bit of cheeky fun. A way to get a smile out of him, maybe sneak in an extra kiss or two, but that was it. I didn't think he'd pull me in like he did. And once he gotstarted, he didn't hold back. It all just kind of caught me off guard.
Not that I minded, but I didn't think it would move that fast or that he'd come apart so hard. And I sure didn't expect how badly I'd need him right back.
I probably should've stopped it. I thought it would take longer for him to be ready, so I wasn't exactly prepared for it and didn’t have anything to make it easier on him. But when I tried to pull back, he didn't really let me. He knew what he wanted and didn't give me the space to talk myself out of it.
Granted, I didn't put up much of a fight. God knows I wanted him. But Rowan didn't flinch away, either. Not once. He was so completely in it that I had to wonder if that was just how he preferred it. It didn't seem to bother him at all. And if it had been too much, he would've told me.
At some point, he began to stir. It wasn't much at first, just a low sound in his throat like he was trying to shake off a dream. His hand slid higher across my chest and hooked around me as he curled in closer. When I tightened my hold on him, he sighed and nuzzled against me. The shape of his body settled perfectly into mine.
A few minutes passed, and I felt more movement. Eventually, Rowan rolled onto his back and stretched. One arm came up to rub at his eyes while the other draped loosely over his stomach.
I turned onto my side, half sitting up on one elbow. "Morning."
He blinked slowly and turned his head toward me. His gaze met mine, still hazy but warm. A slow, quiet smile tugged at his lips. "Morning."
I sat up a bit to reach for his hand and laced our fingers together. His palm was warm, and his fingers curled in against mine.
For a moment, I just watched him. He seemed okay. Ifhe wasn't, I trusted he'd let me know. But he didn’t look uncomfortable or anxious about what happened last night. In fact, he looked peaceful. The kind of peace that only comes when you feel safe and know nothing's about to be taken away from you.
I leaned in and kissed him, slow and unhurried. His lips moved against mine with that same softness. When we broke apart, I rested my forehead against his and closed my eyes. He let out a quiet breath, and I felt it ghost across my skin.
Yeah... This was what I wanted to wake up to.
"I don't really want to get up," he mumbled after a moment, voice low and rough with sleep.
"Then don't. You're fine right here." I opened my eyes and eased back to look down at him. "But if I have to carry you out of bed later, I'm charging a fee."
His eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
He cracked a smile, and I pressed one more kiss to his cheek before sitting up fully. The sheets slipped down my back, and the slight coolness in the air tickled my skin. I didn't mind. Not after this kind of morning.
I stretched the stiffness from my spine and reached for my jeans. "Take your time. I'll be in the kitchen."
He gave a noncommittal hum and flopped his arm over his face.
I got partially dressed but didn't bother with a shirt. The flat was warm enough. And besides, I wasn't above leaning on a little incentive to lure him out of bed. With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure he was still awake, I wandered barefoot into the hallway.
The kitchen was still dim, lit only by the weak morning light that filtered through the curtains. I flicked on the overheads and stepped across the tile. The chill bit at my feet and made me briefly reconsider skipping socks.
I started the coffee first. The machine hissed to life as I reached into the cupboard for two mugs and set them out. From the fridge, I pulled out the usual suspects. Eggs, butter, sausages. Nothing super fancy. But I wanted to throw in something extra today, so I also brought out the bacon, tomatoes, and some leftover baked beans.
I moved on autopilot, slicing the tomatoes and setting them into the pan alongside the sausages with a quiet sizzle. The smell hit almost instantly – sharp, savoury, just enough to make my stomach wake up. I dropped a couple slices of bread into the toaster but didn't push them down yet. I didn't want the toast to go cold before Rowan got out here.
After a few minutes, I turned the sausages and pressed the tomatoes down with the back of the spatula so they'd sear a little. Steam curled up in lazy spirals, fogging the edges of the nearby window.
The soft creak of the bedroom door pulled my attention just as I flipped the tomatoes. A few seconds later, I heard the quiet shuffle of feet coming down the hall.
I stole a glance over my shoulder in time to see Rowan wander into the sitting room. He was fully dressed, though his shirt looked slightly rumpled with one sleeve half-pushed up. He rubbed at his face before putting on his glasses, then gave a long, slow stretch with his arms high above his head.
