Cherish had never been good at coping. She knew this. It had always been Len who'd held her together. But with Len gone, Cherish turned to the only coping mechanism she knew- denial. It was easy, simply pretend it hadn't happened; pretend he had...
Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to the first person (besides me) to have fallen in love with Cherish and Seven, and the first person ever to have read their entire story. Thank you, Dani, your reactions, suggestions and support have meant a lot to me. <3
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Cherish groaned as the bed shifted beside her leaving her suddenly cool, and rolled towards the warmth instinctively. Once again the bed shifted and this time she held tight to the warmth as it tried to slip away.
She was determinedly ignoring the ringing. It wasn't really bothering her much, as she was technically already awake, just not so keen on moving. But, she was sure now, the ringing was the reason for the sudden cold shiver that ran down her back.
"What?"
Without opening her eyes, she listened as Seven growled angrily at whomever was calling. His hand dropped carefully down onto her head, an attempt to block the noise from her ears. His thoughtfulness was appreciated, but she lazily swatted his hand away, rolling over and curling into him.
"No, we're not," his tone was annoyed, clipped. "Seriously Ian, I'm on the fucking couch."
Cherish couldn't say that she'd ever done an eye roll with her eyes closed before; Ian was insufferable!
"She's still sleeping, E... Now?" Seven shook her shoulder gently, and Cherish could only imagine why he was waking her up 'now'. "For fuck's sake, E, of course we're clothed! What the hell do you thin- Fine. See you in a few."
Dropping the phone, Seven let out a frustrated sigh, before flopping back down beside her, "You might want to wake up and get dressed, Rish. They're on their way here. He said 10 minutes."
"They?" Cherish inquired opening one eye. Seven was disheveled and still as shirtless as he'd been the night before; clothed, he'd said!
Waking up beside him hadn't been as awkward as she would have thought, in fact, she'd been enjoying how comfortable it had felt. How she'd felt tucked under his arm, her back pressing against his body, his breath against the back of her neck. She would have liked to lay there longer, but as Seven deadpanned his answer she knew she'd have to move.
"Ian and the rest of our fan club. I told them we're fully dressed and on the couch..."
Curse you, fanclub! Cherish thought as jumped from the bed, "Shit! Where's your shirt?"
She stumbled, realising she was still wearing one of her shoes and simultaneously tugged it off and hopped across the room toward Seven's shirt. He would have laughed as she tossed both her shoe and his shirt at him, but there was no time for amusement.
Their friends had killed what should have been a nice, though maybe slightly awkward morning for them. If anything, he had a feeling they'd made it exponentially more awkward. He didn't relish his friends noticing the coy skittishness they'd both undoubtedly have every time they looked at one another. He made a mental note to thank Ian later.
