A/N - Ok. I really struggled with the last chapter. So I'm afraid of this
one. Very afraid. Hence the delay. My apologies.
~Sleeping Arrangements - Chapter 5~
Seth was cold. Without opening his eyes, he felt around on the bed for the covers. He sometimes kicked them off when he was having particularly bad dreams, but right now his fuzzy brain didn't remember any dreams, good or bad. His hand brushed across warmth in its travel, so he went back to it and discovered something that seemed distinctly arm-like. Sleepily wondering if he'd nodded off reading comics with Ryan in the pool house again, he opened one eye, quickly followed by the other when confronted with long dark hair, definitely not of the Ryan variety, spilling across the pillow. He raised his head and in the dim light saw Summer, sleeping peacefully, and he guessed warmly, since she had all the covers on her side of the bed. Forgetting his goose bumps, he dropped his head back down. He closed his eyes, and a small smile crept onto his face. His head snapped up, and he looked over at her again, just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Satisfied, he relaxed into the pillow.
He turned his head the other direction, and was relieved to see Ryan in the bed by the window. Spooning with Marissa. Aw, sweet. He hoped that meant what it looked like. Those two could use some happiness.
Not wanting to wake her, he carefully turned on his side towards her, propping his head up on his hand. Seth was utterly captivated just watching Summer sleep. She was curled on her side with one hand tucked under her chin and the other lying on the bed in front of him. She seemed innocent, even childlike there. Silky tendrils of dark hair lay against soft tanned skin, moving in time with the slow rise and fall of her chest. He gently pulled the blanket up over her exposed shoulder. Sweet Jesus, she was breathtaking.
He had discovered previously unseen sides of her last night that were just as enchanting as her physical attributes, though. He'd always believed they were there, but he'd almost given up on breaking through her wall of defense. Finally a sweet-natured thoughtfulness had escaped through the cracks in her armor, an eager desire to please, and a shy trusting vulnerability that frightened him with responsibility. When they weren't arguing playfully, they'd had long talks and she had shared hopes and fears and disappointments with him. He was suddenly filled with determination to make sure that nothing ever held her back or hurt her again. She was sweet simplicity and intelligent wit mixed with fiery passion and it made his head spin to think he was the only one she allowed to see it all.
He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach and wondered how he would survive if the light of day showed Summer her error; if she sidestepped her assurances last night and chose her social standing over him again. He tried to block the thought, but years of loneliness and disappointment were firmly entrenched in the back of his mind. It had been relatively easy to shrug off before, to pretend like her harsh dismissals hadn't hurt that much over the years, but now he didn't think he could convincingly play the part. He had taken his opportunity last night and run as far as he could with it, trying so hard to show her how much he cared about her. With every kiss, every touch with shaking fingertips, every path traveled by his tongue; he had tried to make clear exactly what she meant to him. No, he would not recover from another rejection. Not now. It would break him.
Unable to stop himself, he reached out and tenderly stroked her hair, then ran his thumb ever so gently across her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. He didn't want to wake her, but he had to use this opportunity to know her under his fingers once more, to commit the feeling to memory in case he never got another chance. He closed his eyes and just grazed his hand down her blanketed shoulder and arm, then over her tiny waist. His hand skimmed up the curve, coming to rest on her hip. He remembered the moans his fingers and tongue had wrung from her, the way she'd whispered his name, sometimes calling it out in the heat of the moment. He thought of the feelings she'd set loose in him with her hands and mouth, sensations he'd never dreamed could be so intense and uncontrollable. The thought crossed, and shocked, his teenaged sex-obsessed mind that as good as all that had been, it didn't compare to the emotions that had just flooded him when he woke up and realized she was sleeping next to him. Fulfillment. Contentment. He'd had a moment of possessiveness that could only be described as cave-man like, and then overwhelmingly, that always elusive happiness. Last night hadn't been yet another vivid dream underscoring the sad futility of his lifelong longing for her.
She felt like home. He belonged somewhere, finally. Right here with her. And God, please let this be real, please let her mean it. "I could make you happy. I could love you better than anyone. Please let me." The thoughts were echoing in his head, and he wasn't sure if he'd spoken out loud. He waited to see if it woke her, but she didn't stir. He gently stroked her cheek again with the back of his fingers, and then lowered his hand carefully over hers on the bed. Closing his eyes, he ignored the chill air around him, and slowly fell back to sleep.
*****
~Sleeping Arrangements - Chapter 5~
Seth was cold. Without opening his eyes, he felt around on the bed for the covers. He sometimes kicked them off when he was having particularly bad dreams, but right now his fuzzy brain didn't remember any dreams, good or bad. His hand brushed across warmth in its travel, so he went back to it and discovered something that seemed distinctly arm-like. Sleepily wondering if he'd nodded off reading comics with Ryan in the pool house again, he opened one eye, quickly followed by the other when confronted with long dark hair, definitely not of the Ryan variety, spilling across the pillow. He raised his head and in the dim light saw Summer, sleeping peacefully, and he guessed warmly, since she had all the covers on her side of the bed. Forgetting his goose bumps, he dropped his head back down. He closed his eyes, and a small smile crept onto his face. His head snapped up, and he looked over at her again, just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Satisfied, he relaxed into the pillow.
He turned his head the other direction, and was relieved to see Ryan in the bed by the window. Spooning with Marissa. Aw, sweet. He hoped that meant what it looked like. Those two could use some happiness.
Not wanting to wake her, he carefully turned on his side towards her, propping his head up on his hand. Seth was utterly captivated just watching Summer sleep. She was curled on her side with one hand tucked under her chin and the other lying on the bed in front of him. She seemed innocent, even childlike there. Silky tendrils of dark hair lay against soft tanned skin, moving in time with the slow rise and fall of her chest. He gently pulled the blanket up over her exposed shoulder. Sweet Jesus, she was breathtaking.
He had discovered previously unseen sides of her last night that were just as enchanting as her physical attributes, though. He'd always believed they were there, but he'd almost given up on breaking through her wall of defense. Finally a sweet-natured thoughtfulness had escaped through the cracks in her armor, an eager desire to please, and a shy trusting vulnerability that frightened him with responsibility. When they weren't arguing playfully, they'd had long talks and she had shared hopes and fears and disappointments with him. He was suddenly filled with determination to make sure that nothing ever held her back or hurt her again. She was sweet simplicity and intelligent wit mixed with fiery passion and it made his head spin to think he was the only one she allowed to see it all.
He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach and wondered how he would survive if the light of day showed Summer her error; if she sidestepped her assurances last night and chose her social standing over him again. He tried to block the thought, but years of loneliness and disappointment were firmly entrenched in the back of his mind. It had been relatively easy to shrug off before, to pretend like her harsh dismissals hadn't hurt that much over the years, but now he didn't think he could convincingly play the part. He had taken his opportunity last night and run as far as he could with it, trying so hard to show her how much he cared about her. With every kiss, every touch with shaking fingertips, every path traveled by his tongue; he had tried to make clear exactly what she meant to him. No, he would not recover from another rejection. Not now. It would break him.
Unable to stop himself, he reached out and tenderly stroked her hair, then ran his thumb ever so gently across her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. He didn't want to wake her, but he had to use this opportunity to know her under his fingers once more, to commit the feeling to memory in case he never got another chance. He closed his eyes and just grazed his hand down her blanketed shoulder and arm, then over her tiny waist. His hand skimmed up the curve, coming to rest on her hip. He remembered the moans his fingers and tongue had wrung from her, the way she'd whispered his name, sometimes calling it out in the heat of the moment. He thought of the feelings she'd set loose in him with her hands and mouth, sensations he'd never dreamed could be so intense and uncontrollable. The thought crossed, and shocked, his teenaged sex-obsessed mind that as good as all that had been, it didn't compare to the emotions that had just flooded him when he woke up and realized she was sleeping next to him. Fulfillment. Contentment. He'd had a moment of possessiveness that could only be described as cave-man like, and then overwhelmingly, that always elusive happiness. Last night hadn't been yet another vivid dream underscoring the sad futility of his lifelong longing for her.
She felt like home. He belonged somewhere, finally. Right here with her. And God, please let this be real, please let her mean it. "I could make you happy. I could love you better than anyone. Please let me." The thoughts were echoing in his head, and he wasn't sure if he'd spoken out loud. He waited to see if it woke her, but she didn't stir. He gently stroked her cheek again with the back of his fingers, and then lowered his hand carefully over hers on the bed. Closing his eyes, he ignored the chill air around him, and slowly fell back to sleep.
*****