You've Got So Much Love in You

We both layed down, after changing into our pajamas, just ready for a good night sleep.

"Hey Hayles?" I asked, my curiosity returning about the white comforter.

"Yeah?"

"Why's the comforter white?"

"Oh! I forgot to tell you that. It's white because you know how I like writing and doodling on everything possible, this way, I can doodle while I'm laying down!" she smiled, as though she had made a major accomplishment.

"Maybe now I won't have to hear you complain about being bored when trying to fall asleep," I responded, playfully.

"Oh just go to sleep," she giggled, and snaked her arms around my waist, and cuddling close to me. I felt suddenly drowsy, at the amount of comfort that I felt. All the comfort of her embrace, being in my own bed, and being with the one I love, eventually drifted me off the sleep, along with the sound of her snoring.

Time Lapse; Next Morning.

I woke up, trying to get up, but noticing I was being held protectively by Hayley, who was talking her sleep.

"No! Noo...don't take her! I don't care if you want her...she's minee..." she muttered, rambling on, probably talking to someone in her dream. Her words, though, seemed to explain why her arms were wrapped so tightly around me, and gripping me so protectively.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty," I tried, only getting her to roll over, removing her arms from my waist. I smirked as I got up, and got a little bit of luke warm water, and drizzled it on her head.

"Eeek!" she squealed, jumping out of bed and grabbing a lamp.

"Relax! It's just me, trying to wake you up. You had a death grip on me when I woke up," I giggled, as she nodded drowsily, putting the lamp down.

"I see that. Why wake me up at, "she glanced at the clock next to the bed, on the night stand, "10:00 AM?"

"I had to piss, and you wouldn't let me move. You kept saying stuff like, 'don't take her' and shit," I giggled, stopping quickly after, realizing I was about a minute away from pissing myself. I heard a faint giggle as I ran to the bathroom, which thankfully, was in the bedroom.

I did my business, walking back out with a satisfied smile.

"I'm good."

"You're such a dork!" she giggled, but stopping as her eyes traveled to my stomach, where my incision was, "Let me see your stitches."

I shook my head and sighed, pulling up my shirt a little, to reveal the stitches that the doctor at that stupid hospital didn't take out or fix. He said they'd dissolve. Bullshit, they'd been there for almost 2 months.

"It's getting worse," she pouted, lightly kissing my stomach as she got up from her kneeling position, and put her arms around my neck.

"I think it's fine. It doesn't even hurt," I shrugged. I honestly had forgotten they were there, until she reminded me.

"One, there's a bunch of places where you got them caught on something and they pulled out a little. Two, you tried to cut them out yourself. Three, your stomach is like, permanently stained with blood," she gave me one of those 'duh' looks. You know, the ones people make when you don't realize the obvious.

"It's really not that bad! It's a little messed up here and there, but it doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me," she pouted, as I walked in front of the stand up mirror that was placed next to the dresser. I lifted my shirt a little, seeing my stomach, and the blood that had practically stained it. I grimaced.

"Eck!"

"I told you!" she laughed victoriously.

"Watch it, I'll get a rope and tape and tell everyone I have no idea what happened to you," I smirked evilly, as her eyes widened.

"You wouldn't!"

"Nah, but I will be a meanie," I grinned, as she pouted more.

Damn, it felt so right to have my life back together.