I turn off the lights and step over the futon before shoving myself into Colten’s bed.
“Wha—hey, no!” Colten says, slapping at me, but I continue to wrestle my way under his already warm covers while pushing him towards the wall. “This is a twin! We literally can’t fit—!”
“Not with that attitude,” I mutter.
It really is a tight fit, the bed creaking under our combined weight, but I’m too tired to think of any logical thoughts right now. So I just kind of grab Colten and shuffle him on top of me, like my own personal weighted blanket.
“I’m going to crush you,” he warns. I’m pretty sure it’s a threat.
“Okay, but later,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and letting myself relax. It’s a bit awkward, Colten’s body sprawled out on top of mine, his elbow digging painfully into my ribs and knee concerningly close to crushing my dick.
Yet, as I relax, Colten just grumbles under his breath and repositions himself on top of me, his head pillowed on my chest and his breathing slowing down.
It’s relaxing, that warm feeling filling me up again, the one that isn’t so much based on body temperature but on a warmth that starts in my chest and flows through my limbs.
It feels like the sun itself is trapped in my ribcage, and I never want to let it escape. I want to hold it, cherish it, and keep it close.
I sigh, happy as Colten settles on top of me. Why haven’t we done this before? It’s not like we haven’t shared beds before.
“It’s a good thing you’re short,” I murmur, my thoughts already slipping under the weight of my exhaustion.
Colten softly slaps my arm in retaliation, but even that doesn’t keep me from falling asleep, not when I’m so comfortable and warm.
Chapter 10
Iwake up, and Colten is gone.
That’s the first thing I notice when my hand pats around the small mattress and I can’t find him. I blink, groggy as I look around his room.
…Did he run away again?
Sitting up slowly, I scrub a hand over my face. My brain feels like it’s buffering. There are flashes from yesterday—finding their house, doing PT, Colten’s mouth, Colten’s hands, Colten’sdick—but every time I try to focus, it’s like my thoughts slide right off.
I really wanted more last night. Even now, thinking about it, there’s a curl of heat tugging at my groin. I wanted him to hold me down and—
Is it the spell again?
…It must be.
I get out of bed, looking around the room before I notice that my clothes are folded neatly on the chair. That’s a point for Colten staying.
Looking down at my current clothing situation, I see just how stretched out Colten’s shirt has become, my body clearly winning against it. I’m no longer bursting at the seams in it, but it doesn’t have much in the way of seams left, either. It’s ruined.
The door opens, and I panic.
There is no thought process here, only instinct and survival to hide the evidence as fast as possible.
I yank the shirt off and launch it across the room.
Colten freezes in the doorway.
I freeze in the middle of the room, shirtless and post-crime.
We stare at each other.
His eyes flick to where the shirt landed, behind a chair but still clearly visible. He looks back at me with a tired look.
“...Why did you throw my shirt?” he asks slowly.
