Two "50 Shades of blue eyes & warm arms..."

"I believe the lady said no." The voice is unfamiliar, but I don't care, I sob in relief at this miracle. Someone's here to save me. My own personal knight in shiny armor, and is it so wrong I'm more worried about who it is, than Sean and his wayward advances? "Fuck off!" Sean growls back but before he can return to his forceful ways, he's moving backwards and I'm crumbling down to the soft grass.

I hear the sounds of fists connecting with bone and flesh and I wince unconsciously. Then followed are sounds of grunts and mumbled curses, and soon enough a null of silence takes over as my savior drapes a jacket around my shoulders. My shivers must be more obvious than I thought. "Hey, hey you're okay. I got you now." The soft, soothing voice croones into my ear as a pair of strong, capable arms lift me off the ground.

I can barely make out any surroundings, my eyelids are weighed down by bricks and I've lost all sense of awareness it seems but somehow I manage to cling to his dress shirt and bury my head in his chest. The touch is like a current running through my body and I don't know whether it's the champagne or this man's mere presence effecting me so, but either way I'm enamored.

I can just slightly make out tousled, unruly dirty brown hair as I look up, and the crisp scent of... of old spice mixed with...with a musk that's just natural and I assume all his own fills my nostrils. I know instantly it's blue eyes. How and why are questions that escape my curiosity at the moment. He's here, I'm in his arms, and that's all that seems to matter.

We're moving across the lawn, hidden by the darkness of night and I'm eternally grateful. I couldn't bare for anyone to see me like this. I can barely stand him seeing me like this, but I have no choice in the matter. I can only imagine how awful I look right about now. Torn, tattered dress, visible undergarments, a tangled disheveled heap of chestnut curls, oh and let's not forget the show stoppers, the angry red cut on my mouth and the no doubt bright pink handprint across my cheek.

"Shh baby, it's okay. I won't let anyone hurt you okay?" Blue eyes croones and I'm now, more than ever, acutely aware of the wetness seeping into his shirt. I must still be crying but I can't comprehend anything substantial at the moment. My mind is a dull, hazy, grey. All I can think of is how badly I never want to leave his arms and how stupid I must look to him. My utter carelessness and naivety never cease to amaze me.

But I can't dwell on anything for too long though as the unwelcome blackness comes to take me away to the land of unconsciousness. I don't fight it, I don't have the strength for anything anymore. Blue eyes and warm arms are the last coherent thoughts that roll through my mind and it leaves me considerably contented and smiling uncontrollably.

Soft rays of sunlight pull me out of my deep slumber all too soon for my liking. I'm vaguely aware that my head is pounding, throbbing, and unrelenting only proving once again I drank way too much. It never fails really. I fight to keep my eyes closed for another minute or two but the early morning light wins out and I'm fully awakened.

My eyes flutter a few times, trying to make the surroundings come into focus and instantly I'm less disoriented and more panic stricken. This is not my room. The sheets confused me, so soft no doubt Egyptian cotton, but they are, for sure, not mine. Them, along with the comforter, are a deep shade of navy and my own bed features pale grays and soft lilacs.

And only to add to my massive confusion/annoyingly present hangover, I realize I'm wearing men's clothes. An over-sized black cotton tee and a pair of baby blue plaid boxers. How the hell did I end up here? And where is here? And who's fucking clothes am I wearing?

I try to sit up, but my movements are too fast and sudden and my stomach churns in agony. I can't remember anything useful from last night, it's like I've completely lost my memory outside of sharing champagne with Sean and eye-fucking blue eyes. Hmm blue eyes and his messy brown hair and his lean, muscular form. I can guarantee he's ripped underneath all that gorgeous Gucci. The pounding in my head is quickly replaced with one between my legs and I blush and sink into the sheets smiling wickedly.

Lost in my daydreaming, and oh-so-inappropriate thoughts, I roll onto my side and snuggle into a pillow. A very hard, uncomfortable pillow that's rising and falling beneath my head. Oh fuck me. A strong, capable arm wraps around me and I don't even flinch or shy away, I sink further into this familiar touch, this delightful comfort zone tucked away in this stranger's side. I should be more concerned as to why this touch is so familiar, but honestly, I'm not. Not even in the slightest actually.

The puzzle pieces don't exactly fall together but I can at least put two and two together and figure out I'm in bed with blue eyes. Hmm, I really should learn his name. Well, eventually. I'm far too comfortable to think about reality at the moment. Yes the reality that you've just lost your v-card to some man who's name you can't even recall. Reality, you are a complete bitch sometimes.

Fingers come up and brush the chestnut tendrils away from my face in the tenderest and sweetest of ways. I'm melting from the inside out again. "How you feeling?" My skin lights on fire, every hair standing on it's end now, at the mere sound of his sultry, sexy, clearly just-woke-up, mumble of a question.

"Like I should be more sore than I am." I reply softly, almost embarrassed. Why, I have no clue. Maybe because I lost my virginity to the most gorgeous man in all of Seattle? And you'd think I'd be more sore than I feel. In fact, I don't feel sore or uncomfortable whatsoever. I can't believe I ever took Lily for her word on anything sex. Big mistake.

Blue eyes slowly eases me out of his hold, then rolls and props himself up on his elbow so that he can look at me. I'm suddenly lost in shades of neon blue and scents of old spice. Does he always smell this good? "And that's a bad thing?" He asks with a quirk of his eyebrow. I think he's being playfully obtuse with me on purpose. I can't be sure though.

"Well if I'm not sore, then you clearly weren't doing something right." I quip in return, mimicking his pose as I lean my head against my fist. I'm smirking now, blatantly egging him on, quivering inside at the unknown reaction I'm sure to receive. The blank confused stare however, was not what I had in mind. So much for being playful this morning.

"What exactly do you think happened last night Mia?" Now I'm definitely confused. And a bit dazed. He was the one that was just cuddling and spooning with me, wasn't he? I couldn't have possibly read too much into it. Right? When you wake up in a guy's bed, wearing his clothes, and snuggling in his arms, it tends to lead all to one big giant conclusion.

"Mia?" his voice breaks my inner dwellings and I realize I've been biting my lip, playing with a loose thread on the sheets and clearly avoiding his question. I'm so lost. Can't we just go back to cuddling and pretending the world outside this apartment doesn't exist? I'd much rather prefer that than this confusing game he's clearly winning at.

"I think I'm going to take a shower now." I say fully intent on continuing down the path of avoidance as I push myself slowly out of bed. Either I'm moving at the pace of a snail or he's moving at the speed of light, because he's up and blocking my way to the en suite bathroom before I can even blink.

"Mia, do you remember anything from last night?" Hmm, he's got a point there. I don't. Not a damn thing in fact. "Guess there wasn't really anything to remember." I say with an I-couldn't-give-a-fuck shrug instantly regretting my harshness. On second thought, what kind of guy sleeps with a girl who clearly was so drunk she can't even remember his name, or how she got back to his place, or even talking to him at the party. Ugh. I'm so over drinking. This is exhausting.

"Wait, you think..." My eyes instantly abandon the spot on the carpet they were pretending to be fascinated by the moment he pauses and I hear what I'm pretty sure can only be described as a guff of disbelief. I think my headache just got a headache. And I just died a little from embarrassment on the inside. Could this morning possibly be going any worse?

"Sawyer!"