Haven • H.S.

5. Empty Beds & Breakfast

Haven- 05

"life is short to say the least. we're in the belly of the beast..."

Harry.

        I could hear the pounding in my head before I could feel it.

        Then... I felt it.

        Every time I'd woken up with a hangover I had vowed vigorously to myself to 'never drink again'. This was one of those times. They were hopeless attempts; everybody knew that. I knew, my friends knew, even my family knew, that those dumb-ass vows were all for naught.

        On the contrary, I smelt bacon. Which supplied the reasoning of why the space next to me was cold, when I was hoping for it to be warm; occupied. A massive sense of relief that she had stayed hit me at such a demanding deterrent I almost mistaked it for heartburn.

        I smiled unconsciously. My thoughts had a mind of their own, quite literally, going back to last night, replaying in detail the amount of fun I had just making her laugh. Just being with her. Dancing, and uncaring of anyone watching us. We had danced so innocently, it blew my mind. The parties I'd gone to before almost always resulted in my demanding ways making an appearance, dancing with the women roughly and selfishly, with only one thing on my mind. It didn't take a whole lot to get what I had wanted; the scantily dressed women handed their bodies over easily. Easy. Just like that. No looking back.

        It was a faraway concept to think about how Ella had actually made me feel; something I hadn't done in so long. Something I'd wanted for so long. I welcomed this feeling with only an ounce of fear and hesitancy seeping through, knowing that whatever Ella would give me, big or small, I'd take.

        I turned onto my side, and like the seemingly unrecognizable man I've become, smelt the pillow she laid her head on throughout the night. Her scent was addictive; sweet and fruity but not overbearing. An aphrodisiac. With a strong realization, she was even in the air around me; consuming my senses, and lessening the headache I had.

        I got up slowly, and made my way to find Ella's back to me, still in my clothes (God, give me strength), humming a tune. If this wasn't every man's dream, I didn't know what is. I grinned, quietly making my way to her, "Morning, sweet girl," I said because I was out of other things to say, and because it was true. She jumped slightly in place, only causing me to smile wider.

        She turned quickly. "Morning. How's your headache?"

        This woman was amazing. Her genuine curiosity and concern was not lost on me. "How'd you know I'd have one?" I quipped.

        She looked at me knowingly and my skin hummed in a want to meet hers again. To hold her in any way, to kiss her. I really wanted to fucking kiss her. This wasn't new for me, considering it's been all I think about every time I looked at her. Which was a lot, you bastard, my conscious was quick to point out.

        Was it normal for girls to look so good in the morning light despite the fact that her hair is messy and her makeup looks smudged? No, I'll nip that question in the bud quickly. It wasn't.

        I could call her hot, I could even call her sexy if I wanted, but that just wouldn't do her justice. I was convinced nothing would.

        "You were pretty hammered," she giggled, and I found myself lost in the sound much like I was last night. I would've threatened to gag at any other woman's giggle at this point. "Which means you probably have quite the mean migraine right about now," she continued, going back to dishing the bacon out on plates. She pointed to the counter. "I set out some Motrin I found, and there's a glass of water."