After Afterall

14

I wake up warm and comfortable. The bed is empty beside me, but I didn't actually expect to wake up with Derek at my side. It's almost 9am and I'm sure he starts his day early; he seems like a morning person. I lie back, flat against the mattress, and stare up at the crown cornice ceiling and the crystal chandelier hanging from the very center. I've seen crystal chandeliers before, but I've always doubted their authenticity. I don't believe for a second that the President's second home would have anything but genuine crystal hanging from the rafters.

All day could be spent lying in bed, but I want to find Derek. Maybe I can convince him to join me.

I pull on my underwear from the floor and walk into the bathroom. On the wall is a silk bathrobe—completely impractical if you want to stay warm, but completely alluring. I'm hoping it's new. I love Michelle Obama, but I really don't want to wear another woman's bathrobe. I assume it's a new, welcoming addition to the house, and I pull on the robe.

Downstairs it smells of coffee and bacon. Not until my stomach growls awake do I even realize I'm hungry.

Derek stands at the stove in his boxers and a white t-shirt. He has the radio on low, but I can still hear pundits yammering on about Derek's next big decision. I know this time is meant for us, to figure out what us even means, but I wonder if he's worried about the upcoming week.

I walk into the kitchen, the stone floors cold beneath my feet. Derek turns and smiles at me. "Good morning."

"Morning." I smile at him.

Derek leans down and kisses me lightly. I realize I haven't brushed my teeth and I feel mortified, but he doesn't seem to care or notice. As he pulls back, he gives me this look. I can't explain it, but it makes my stomach flutter. He cups my cheek in his hand and kisses me again, deeper this time, parting my lips with his tongue. I bask in the feeling of him, allowing myself to melt against his chest. He pulls back right before I think about taking off my robe.

"You look good," he says while running his fingers down the robe tie.

"So do you. You look more relaxed today."

"I am."

I look over to the stove. "Are you making me breakfast?"

"Yes. Shit," he turns back and flips the bacon which is perfectly crisp. "You distracted me." He motions to the coffee pot with the spatula. "The coffee is some fancy kind from Italy. It's the best I've ever had. I'd go to war with Italy if they stopped exporting to us."

I grab a mug from the cabinet and begin to pour myself a cup. "You know, it's less funny when you actually could declare war if you wanted to."

He plates the bacon. "I'm happy to tell you it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Good." I take a sip and he's right. He's so right. "Good. This coffee is worth war being fought over. Screw Helen of Troy. This is real love."

Derek laughs and walks over to me, threading his one arm behind my back. "You are, without a shadow of a doubt, the weirdest person I know."

I push him away with my palm and feign anger. "Says the man who was talking about Star Trek the other day in a speech."

"No no. Star Trek is no longer weird. Or dorky. In the 90s, maybe, but now it's cool."

He keeps talking about Star Trek and I ignore him because I realize how very normal this all feels. If I force myself to forget where I am, the guards and agents outside, and his job, this is just a normal morning. I wake up to a man who kisses me and makes me breakfast, who flirts and shares shy looks with me, and makes almost all of this feel normal somehow.