Real-ish

Sleepy

Cora~

After dinner, we wash our dishes. It's odd to clean up with the help of other people. Jason places a damp cloth over the bread basket and places it on the Island. Tim wipes down the table before I can get to it.

We make our way to our separate rooms in peaceful silence. Except for Dami. He follows me to mine instead. I send him a raised eyebrow but I say nothing as I lead him through my doorway. I note that he closes the door, most likely believing my parents will come home at any moment.

It's nice to have him around. He's not overbearing but he makes his presence known. It's a wonderful presence regardless. Comfortable, and that's only gotten better with our casual conversations earlier.

His being here also means I get to stare at him more while we talk. I make a beeline for my bed and plop down, patting beside me. Damian follows my example and lays himself down beside me.

"Are you certain you're feeling alright?" He questions. This must be why he followed me. I give him a genuine reassuring smile.

"Yeah. It was kinda like finishing a puzzle and seeing the whole picture. But I can't say I hate it." I explain. 

"I doubt you would tell me if you did." He states, unamused. I scoff.

"Trust me. If I didn't like you, you'd know." I snicker quietly. I can still be heard over the music I didn't shut off earlier.

"How would I know?" He questions. I pretend to think hard about it.

"I wouldn't have let you stay with me. And even if I did, for whatever reason, you wouldn't be allowed in my room." I list with a straight face.

"Am I being invasive then?" He asks. I furrow my brows.

"Not at all. You're fine right where you are." I tell him. It occurs to me that I may be stating the obvious. Still, he doesn't seem to notice, running an absent hand through his hair.

His hair doesn't move all that much, most likely because he somehow has hair gel in it. Otherwise, his hair just does that. I squint my eyes trying to discern whether his hair looks shinier than regular black hair. Dami raises an eyebrow at me.

"Is there something wrong with my appearance?" He asks. My eyes snap down to gaze into his. I feel my face get a little warmer as he stares back at me. I didn't realize how close we are.

"No, no, nothing like that. I was just wondering if you use hair gel or if your hair just grows like that." I say nervously. He makes me both comfortable and nervous, sometimes both at once. Like now. It's an odd but not unwelcome feeling.

He makes a face I don't recognize, but it looks similar to one of thought. He seems to decide as I'm reigning in my blush.

"You're welcome to see for yourself." He offers, doing his best to sound nonchalant. Does that mean I can touch his hair?

I slowly raise my hand to his hair, I glance down at his eyes to make sure it's okay. He nods softly and I continue to reach my hand for his hair. He doesn't use hair gel.

"Wow, your hair is so soft," I say quietly as I continue to card my hand through his midnight black hair. I don't realize it at first but Dami relaxes quite a bit as I continue. His emerald green eyes are now half-lidded and his broad shoulders droop with the lack of tension.

I go to pull away because I feel as though I may be making him uncomfortable soon, but as soon as I start to remove my hand, his eyes snap fully open and he just looks at me. Eyes bright, and earnest, almost pleading if I read too much into it.

I gently replace my fingers into his soft hair and he relaxes once more. I smile gently. Laying here with him, gently playing with his hair, it's comfortable. Honestly more comfortable than I have been in a long time.

A small, gentle smile makes its way onto Damian's face. I love when he smiles. He looks attractive usually, but when he smiles he looks like a fallen angel. His gorgeous, lightly tan skin is flawless, the setting sunlight from my window illuminates his cheekbones, and now the little I can see of his eyes.

I'm probably staring like a creep, but I'm much too relaxed to care. He can tell me if he doesn't like it. He doesn't seem to have any problems with voicing his opinions to anyone else. Or me, for that matter.

I feel myself getting tired. However, I don't want to stop moving my hand through his hair or move away from him. It's the exact opposite. I want to get closer to him. So I scoot myself just a little closer, not too much, but enough so my arm is more bent and I can feel his soft and even breath on my skin.

I can feel my body settle into the mattress of my bed. My eyes get heavy, and I start to rest more of my arm against Dami when it begins to feel heavy too.

Before I know it, I'm asleep.

___

Damian~

In my half-awake state, I can feel Cora shift closer. Her hand is still running slowly and gently through my hair.

It's a surprisingly comforting action. Occasionally it'll send small tingles throughout my body, but that doesn't stop my body from relaxing in her bed. My eyes have become heavy and my head has become slightly clouded.

Her hand relaxes slowly onto my head, making me fully open my eyes. Her amber eyes are closed, and she has a soft look on her face. Her breathing is even and she looks completely relaxed. She looks beautiful.

Why do I think these things about her? I don't typically notice someone's beauty, nor do I let anyone get close enough to touch me for this long. While both instances send shivers down my spine, these shocks are oddly pleasant.

But I don't know enough about what that means, and it irks me. I might need to ask for assistance, which annoys me.

For now, I slowly remove Cora's hand from my head. It feels cold without her hand there. But I slowly raise myself from the bed anyways. I look over Cora's sleeping figure. She looks a little less peaceful.

Her eyebrows are furrowed slightly, and the gentle smile on her lips was gone. It seems she feels the same loss I do, subconsciously at the least. So, against my better judgment, I gently take her into my arms, to which she presses her body against mine, and the peaceful look returns to her face.

My theory proved correct, and I allow a smile to spread across my face. I pull back the covers of her bed and gently lie her down. When I try to let her go, however, she grabs onto my shirt tightly. Her grip is firmer than I would have expected from the sleeping girl.

I freeze, stunned by her quick reaction. I try to gently remove her hand from my shirt, but she isn't budging. I could just rip her hand off, and if it were anyone else I would have. Yet, I just can't bring myself to. I didn't want to risk waking her up.

So instead I swallow down my nerves and softly lay next to Cora's sleeping form. Her grip loosens, but her fingers remain clutching the fabric, so I suppose I'm stuck here. She will wake up if I leave now. I don't know if she's a light sleeper or not, but she has the reflexes to keep me next to her.

Despite being so close to Cora, and my steadily rising heart rate, I'm not upset about this situation. In fact, I'm enjoying myself, just laying here, gazing upon her gorgeous features.

The longer I stay the looser her grip becomes. Eventually, her hand is limp at her side. I suppose I have no excuse now. But no one else needs to know that. For now, maybe I can just stay here for a little while longer.

Just a little while longer.