Room With No Windows
Cozy.
I woke up thinking I was still dreaming. My entire body felt relaxed and fuzzy. Oddly enough, it's the best sleep I've had in months.
And there was a girl in my arms.
Still in a daze, I sigh into her hair, not wanting to open my eyes just yet. She smelled like a combination of citrus and honey and the fruity scent filled my nostrils. It took me a moment to realize that it was a different one that I'd been used to smelling.
I begin to remember the night before, instantly opening my eyes. It was Elsa sleeping soundly. Her hair slightly covered her face and I moved it out of the way.
My eyebrows furrow as I slowly realize I was thinking of her again. I guess my unconscious and dreams were still susceptible.
Elsa folds into my chest, letting out a soft snore. I can't help but smile at the way her cheek smushed against my shoulder.
She slings her leg over mine, causing me to blush like a teenage school boy. How did she have such a big effect on me? She could get me to go from a smug, cocky bastard to drooling and staring like some lost puppy. There was no denying that she was attractive; even with her eyes closed, she had a way of lighting up the room. Her lashes looked so soft and elegant, and her chestnut hair looked so perfectly tousled, that it was almost as if she was ready to film a scene in a movie.
I fix her sweatshirt that was falling off her shoulder and she stirs. I pull my hand back, afraid of what she might think.
"Is it morning?" she mumbles groggily.
I chuckle, distancing myself. "That would explain the light."
She stretches and gives a tiny yawn before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She blinks up at me laying beside her, instantly revealing a bashful expression. "Thanks for...sleeping with me. I know I'm a scaredy cat."
"It's no problem, Elsa," I murmur. She smiles and sits up. "Can I make breakfast?"
I sit up as well, propping my elbows on my knees. "Actually, I was thinking we could stop by the cafe to eat."
"Really?" she asks with wide eyes, genuinely surprised.
I nod, standing to go find a change of clothes. "There's one just a few blocks away. I think you'll really like it."
Elsa gives a wide grin. "Are you sure? I like a lot of weird things."
"Are you trying to call me weird?" I joke.
She smirks. "You're something."
"Something?"
"Something," she repeats, giving a small laugh.
Elsa fell in love with their cappuccinos. She literally begged me to buy her a second one.
"What's so great about 'em?" I ask as I hand the cashier the money.
"IT TASTES LIKE HEAVEN," she tells me emphatically while sipping the last of it.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever you say."
She giggles. "C'mon. Let's go sit down."
"Uh, let's go somewhere else," I tell her. I liked to avoid this place as much as possible. The only reason I still stopped by was because I was addicted to their coffee.
"But why?" she asks, pouting.
I bite my lip and try to think up an excuse. "I was hoping to pick up some groceries. I wanted to make dinner."
"D-dinner?"
"You know, usually the third meal of the day," I tease, smirking. I start walking towards the exit and she follows. "Get with the times."
She rolls her eyes before smiling as we walk on the sidewalk. "Can I help?"
"Course you can."
"What were you planning on making?" She suddenly gasps. "Can we make mushroom soup?!"
I laugh. "What is it with you and soup?"
She scoffs. "It's not just any soup-"
I chuckle and shake my head. "How about something a little simpler? Like spaghetti?"
"That's good, too. And I'll make my mom's spicy ground beef."
Once we've finally come to an agreement, we continue to make our way to the store. We split up and I search for the pasta aisle. I find the pasta and the sauce close to each other and, since I finish early, stop by the chips aisle and buy sour cream and onion. What? I figure she'd appreciate it.
We meet up at the check out counter, and she grins, a shopping basket draped on her forearm. "All ready?"
"You look a little too eager to get started," I chuckle, receiving the basket from her and taking the things out.
She sticks her tongue out at me and I laugh. "You're such a kid, Ellie."
"Pfft, so? I see nothing fun in acting like an old hag."
I don't know what I was thinking, but I lean in to press my lips to her forehead. "Thank God for that."
She blinks up at me, quiet. I clear my throat, resuming to put the rest of the items on the counter. We split the light bags, carrying them in silence. I felt like an idiot. Why did I have to go and pull a move like that? I honestly had no freaking idea.
"Elsa?"
"Hmm?"
I run my tongue along my bottom lip. "I don't know a lot about you, either. Just that you have a mom and sister, and a shitty ex boyfriend/fiancee, and like cappuccinos and Brazil, and have a taste for weird things."
This brings a smile to her face. "I'll tell you more while we make dinner. And quit bashing on my taste!"
I laugh as Elsa pushes me aside. She insisted on doing everything herself. I was always in her way, but since she started complaining, I just do it on purpose now.
"Boil the damn water for the spaghetti and go sit down," she orders me, grabbing a knife from inside one of the cabinets and placing the vegetables out on the cutting board. I mock salute her. "Yes, ma'am."
I make my way over to the sink, filling the pot with water and placing it on the stove. I sit across from her and watch her chop up the vegetables with skill and ease. She wore the same concentrated look on her face that she did the other day with the laptop. It was admirable, really.
Elsa catches onto my staring and furrows her eyebrows. "What?"
"Nothing," I mutter. Could I be any more obvious?
"Tell me," she insists.
I shrug. "I'm just waiting for you to start talking," I lie. Good cover.
She smiles and looks back down at the small pieces of tomatoes and jalapeños. "I have a dad and brother, too. My parents have been married for 35 years."
I let out a low whistle. "Wow. I think that's longer than my parents. Are you the youngest?"
"Yeah," she answers. "I was more of an unexpected surprise, though."
"But I bet you were the favorite," I say, trying to get rid of the sad look.
She smirks, grabbing an onion to start cutting. "Maybe. But I was also the most picked on. My bro would use me as a wrestle buddy, and my sister always took away my toys."
I laugh. "Aww, you poor thing."
"Yeah, but now I'm in college and somewhat engaged," she replies sarcastically. "So who's the real winner here?"
There were tears in her eyes. I wasn't sure whether or not it was from the onion, but I didn't have the heart to ask.
Sighing, I rest my arms on the counter, staring at the ring on her finger. "Are you planning on going back to him?"
"Probably not. It would take one hell of an apology, and even then I don't think I'd forgive him."
She piles up the chopped up vegetables and throws them into a bowl. "He was...a jerk, anyway. I'd have to be desperate to go back to him."
I raise an eyebrow at the strange pause, wondering what was going through her head. What else could he have done to this girl?
"How long were you guys together?" I ask curiously, wondering just how much time she'd invested with this guy.
"Five years," she whispers.
Okay, a lot of time.
I bite my lip. "I'm sorry-"
"It's okay," she cuts in. "Really. Thank you. For everything."
"You're welcome," I mutter, staring down at my hands as I run my thumb over my fingers. I found it hard to look her in the eyes when she was this...sincere.
"John?"
"Y-yeah," I stammer.
"The water's boiling."
Oh, right. Dinner.
The woman knew how to cook. If she could make spaghetti taste this good, I wanted to see what else she could make.
"That was fucking delicious," I sigh as I place my plate in the sink. I was too full to even bother to wash the dishes right now.
She giggles. "I'm glad you liked it. I hope it wasn't too spicy."
"No, my tongue will only be numb for a week."
Elsa laughs, throwing her head back. "You baby."
"I'm serious," I chuckle. We make our way back to my little room, settling down by the sofa. I turn on the tv just out of habit. This is what we did every night until we got sleepy and decided to hit the hay.
But last night was different. We slept in the same bed. And I wasn't sure if that was still acceptable. Should I ask her? I wonder.
I sling my arm over the back of the couch and Els unexpectedly huddles into my side, resting her head on my shoulder. I stare down at her, but her eyes are fixated on the tv. I could feel the heat rushing to the back of my neck, my pulse picking up. Fuck, my palm's were ACTUALLY sweaty.
By the time I was ready to ask, she was already fast asleep, taking quiet breaths as she stayed right on my chest. Not wanting to wake her, I reach for a blanket and drape it over the both of us, my mind drifting until I grew sleepy.
Somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness, I could see myself from earlier in the coffee shop, except this time it wasn't Elsa by my side and sipping through a straw. They were the same illusions and hallucinations as before.
The difference was that I didn't want or need them anymore.
And there was a girl in my arms.
Still in a daze, I sigh into her hair, not wanting to open my eyes just yet. She smelled like a combination of citrus and honey and the fruity scent filled my nostrils. It took me a moment to realize that it was a different one that I'd been used to smelling.
I begin to remember the night before, instantly opening my eyes. It was Elsa sleeping soundly. Her hair slightly covered her face and I moved it out of the way.
My eyebrows furrow as I slowly realize I was thinking of her again. I guess my unconscious and dreams were still susceptible.
Elsa folds into my chest, letting out a soft snore. I can't help but smile at the way her cheek smushed against my shoulder.
She slings her leg over mine, causing me to blush like a teenage school boy. How did she have such a big effect on me? She could get me to go from a smug, cocky bastard to drooling and staring like some lost puppy. There was no denying that she was attractive; even with her eyes closed, she had a way of lighting up the room. Her lashes looked so soft and elegant, and her chestnut hair looked so perfectly tousled, that it was almost as if she was ready to film a scene in a movie.
I fix her sweatshirt that was falling off her shoulder and she stirs. I pull my hand back, afraid of what she might think.
"Is it morning?" she mumbles groggily.
I chuckle, distancing myself. "That would explain the light."
She stretches and gives a tiny yawn before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She blinks up at me laying beside her, instantly revealing a bashful expression. "Thanks for...sleeping with me. I know I'm a scaredy cat."
"It's no problem, Elsa," I murmur. She smiles and sits up. "Can I make breakfast?"
I sit up as well, propping my elbows on my knees. "Actually, I was thinking we could stop by the cafe to eat."
"Really?" she asks with wide eyes, genuinely surprised.
I nod, standing to go find a change of clothes. "There's one just a few blocks away. I think you'll really like it."
Elsa gives a wide grin. "Are you sure? I like a lot of weird things."
"Are you trying to call me weird?" I joke.
She smirks. "You're something."
"Something?"
"Something," she repeats, giving a small laugh.
Elsa fell in love with their cappuccinos. She literally begged me to buy her a second one.
"What's so great about 'em?" I ask as I hand the cashier the money.
"IT TASTES LIKE HEAVEN," she tells me emphatically while sipping the last of it.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever you say."
She giggles. "C'mon. Let's go sit down."
"Uh, let's go somewhere else," I tell her. I liked to avoid this place as much as possible. The only reason I still stopped by was because I was addicted to their coffee.
"But why?" she asks, pouting.
I bite my lip and try to think up an excuse. "I was hoping to pick up some groceries. I wanted to make dinner."
"D-dinner?"
"You know, usually the third meal of the day," I tease, smirking. I start walking towards the exit and she follows. "Get with the times."
She rolls her eyes before smiling as we walk on the sidewalk. "Can I help?"
"Course you can."
"What were you planning on making?" She suddenly gasps. "Can we make mushroom soup?!"
I laugh. "What is it with you and soup?"
She scoffs. "It's not just any soup-"
I chuckle and shake my head. "How about something a little simpler? Like spaghetti?"
"That's good, too. And I'll make my mom's spicy ground beef."
Once we've finally come to an agreement, we continue to make our way to the store. We split up and I search for the pasta aisle. I find the pasta and the sauce close to each other and, since I finish early, stop by the chips aisle and buy sour cream and onion. What? I figure she'd appreciate it.
We meet up at the check out counter, and she grins, a shopping basket draped on her forearm. "All ready?"
"You look a little too eager to get started," I chuckle, receiving the basket from her and taking the things out.
She sticks her tongue out at me and I laugh. "You're such a kid, Ellie."
"Pfft, so? I see nothing fun in acting like an old hag."
I don't know what I was thinking, but I lean in to press my lips to her forehead. "Thank God for that."
She blinks up at me, quiet. I clear my throat, resuming to put the rest of the items on the counter. We split the light bags, carrying them in silence. I felt like an idiot. Why did I have to go and pull a move like that? I honestly had no freaking idea.
"Elsa?"
"Hmm?"
I run my tongue along my bottom lip. "I don't know a lot about you, either. Just that you have a mom and sister, and a shitty ex boyfriend/fiancee, and like cappuccinos and Brazil, and have a taste for weird things."
This brings a smile to her face. "I'll tell you more while we make dinner. And quit bashing on my taste!"
I laugh as Elsa pushes me aside. She insisted on doing everything herself. I was always in her way, but since she started complaining, I just do it on purpose now.
"Boil the damn water for the spaghetti and go sit down," she orders me, grabbing a knife from inside one of the cabinets and placing the vegetables out on the cutting board. I mock salute her. "Yes, ma'am."
I make my way over to the sink, filling the pot with water and placing it on the stove. I sit across from her and watch her chop up the vegetables with skill and ease. She wore the same concentrated look on her face that she did the other day with the laptop. It was admirable, really.
Elsa catches onto my staring and furrows her eyebrows. "What?"
"Nothing," I mutter. Could I be any more obvious?
"Tell me," she insists.
I shrug. "I'm just waiting for you to start talking," I lie. Good cover.
She smiles and looks back down at the small pieces of tomatoes and jalapeños. "I have a dad and brother, too. My parents have been married for 35 years."
I let out a low whistle. "Wow. I think that's longer than my parents. Are you the youngest?"
"Yeah," she answers. "I was more of an unexpected surprise, though."
"But I bet you were the favorite," I say, trying to get rid of the sad look.
She smirks, grabbing an onion to start cutting. "Maybe. But I was also the most picked on. My bro would use me as a wrestle buddy, and my sister always took away my toys."
I laugh. "Aww, you poor thing."
"Yeah, but now I'm in college and somewhat engaged," she replies sarcastically. "So who's the real winner here?"
There were tears in her eyes. I wasn't sure whether or not it was from the onion, but I didn't have the heart to ask.
Sighing, I rest my arms on the counter, staring at the ring on her finger. "Are you planning on going back to him?"
"Probably not. It would take one hell of an apology, and even then I don't think I'd forgive him."
She piles up the chopped up vegetables and throws them into a bowl. "He was...a jerk, anyway. I'd have to be desperate to go back to him."
I raise an eyebrow at the strange pause, wondering what was going through her head. What else could he have done to this girl?
"How long were you guys together?" I ask curiously, wondering just how much time she'd invested with this guy.
"Five years," she whispers.
Okay, a lot of time.
I bite my lip. "I'm sorry-"
"It's okay," she cuts in. "Really. Thank you. For everything."
"You're welcome," I mutter, staring down at my hands as I run my thumb over my fingers. I found it hard to look her in the eyes when she was this...sincere.
"John?"
"Y-yeah," I stammer.
"The water's boiling."
Oh, right. Dinner.
The woman knew how to cook. If she could make spaghetti taste this good, I wanted to see what else she could make.
"That was fucking delicious," I sigh as I place my plate in the sink. I was too full to even bother to wash the dishes right now.
She giggles. "I'm glad you liked it. I hope it wasn't too spicy."
"No, my tongue will only be numb for a week."
Elsa laughs, throwing her head back. "You baby."
"I'm serious," I chuckle. We make our way back to my little room, settling down by the sofa. I turn on the tv just out of habit. This is what we did every night until we got sleepy and decided to hit the hay.
But last night was different. We slept in the same bed. And I wasn't sure if that was still acceptable. Should I ask her? I wonder.
I sling my arm over the back of the couch and Els unexpectedly huddles into my side, resting her head on my shoulder. I stare down at her, but her eyes are fixated on the tv. I could feel the heat rushing to the back of my neck, my pulse picking up. Fuck, my palm's were ACTUALLY sweaty.
By the time I was ready to ask, she was already fast asleep, taking quiet breaths as she stayed right on my chest. Not wanting to wake her, I reach for a blanket and drape it over the both of us, my mind drifting until I grew sleepy.
Somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness, I could see myself from earlier in the coffee shop, except this time it wasn't Elsa by my side and sipping through a straw. They were the same illusions and hallucinations as before.
The difference was that I didn't want or need them anymore.
♠ ♠ ♠
Teehee.