As the sun had began to sneak into the room between the spaces left by the blinds, she couldn't help but open her eyes a little bit. It took her a moment, but she finally realized where she was. Safe and sound, in her bed - lost amongst a sea of blankets.
The previous night had been a blur. Her mind was struggling to remember what had happened - it didn't help that she was as comfortable as she was - her body pressing her to just close her eyes and fall asleep once again. From what she could scrape together in the back of her head - they had started out like any other evening. Meeting up at a local haunt and having a couple drinks. Laughing and dancing with one another. Completely harmless. Followed by a visit to one of their favorite hidden spots. Someone's house that had been converted into a bar. No one actually knew if it was legal, but no one ever asked or gave the owners any problems. From there, her memories of the night quickly began to wash out. It was all a bit fuzzy - which she could attribute to the alcohol. Her head was just beginning to throb, reminding her exactly how much she had indulged the previous night.
Looking around the room, she noticed her blouse from the night before hanging on the windowsill - hung with great care. And then it all came flooding back. One round after the next. Round after round. Their talking had become more boustrus. Their laughter louder. As the liquor flowed - their minds' loosened. It had been a great time. But then that fine line was crossed. That singular line. The one that was always a beacon of reference when drinking - that demanded respect because if it was crossed, you'd pay for it.
But luckily he had been there. By her side the entire evening, joining in on the festivities and raucous laughter. And as she approached that threshold and crossed over, he was still there to take care of her. There were still moments of it that were missing, pieces that she couldn't find, but she remembered him graciously walking her outside - wishing all her friends well before bringing her home. It was nice having someone to lean on during the walk back to the apartment, to hold close against the cold evening air. She didn't remember most of it but there were a few moments she could shake free - seeing the moon between the passing tree branches, his breath against the black sky. And before she knew it, they had arrived. He carried her upstairs and laid her in bed - telling her he'd, 'be right back.' She vaguely remembered him walking in and out a few times - bringing her water, some fresh clothes to put on, hanging her blouse gingerly on the windowsill before finally helping her beneath the covers.
There were a few more sporadic moments throughout the night that she could remember. How safe she felt in his arms, her back nestled up against his chest and stomach - the way he smelled, the softness of his skin against hers. The radiating heat from his body. How it warmed her to the core. His whispering of "good night," in her ear.
Sitting up in bed, she looked to her side - startled to not see him there. Instead, it was just her comforter, bunched up against the wall. But after a few seconds, she heard it. A low and slow rhythm, coming out from underneath the fabric. Pulling it back just a bit, she could make out his tussled hair amongst the folds. Sliding back into bed, she shimmied over towards him - immediately feeling his heat once again.
She was happy it hadn't been a dream.
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