Walls Between Us

14 | walls between us

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C A R T E R

The sunlight falling over my face through the windows breaks my sleep first. I squeeze my eyes, bringing a hand up to shield them from the early morning notoriety. Pain shoots up as I try to move my other arm, causing me to realize that there is an extra weight over it. I blink, looking down at the softness that is attached to my body.

Amaya is on the floor with me, sharing the mat. My heart stills when I take in her solemn presence beside me. A heavy quilt, one which I remember putting over her after I carried her to the other side of the bed, now covers us both. Her dress has ridden up in her sleep, leaving the soft, creamy flesh of her thighs bare to my eyes. I know I shouldn't be staring but I do so shamelessly.

It is difficult to stop once I start to recall having run my hands over and over through those thighs as I ate her out. If we could rewind five years, this would have been our morning routine - my face between her legs as I woke her up with my tongue. She loved that.

Not that she would now.

I lift my hand at the thought that I might accidentally end up touching her inappropriately. My other arm remains trapped under her head. I don't remember when she came down here either. I must have been in a deep sleep. Just the thought that Amaya Sommers was sharing a room with me was enough to bring me peace last night. Even now, the muscles in my body want to curl up behind her, hold her body to me as I hide my face in the crook of her neck.

As Dawson already said once, I am hopeless when it comes to her.

I groan when my attempts to pull my hand out slowly from under her fail. She shifts instead, murmuring something in her sleep as she twists around. I suck in a breath while she turns to face me, her hands wrapping over my torso and she lays her head on my chest, right over the place where my heart is supposed to be.

If it is still there, I wish it all the luck because I have stopped inhaling air. Amaya's flowery perfume is the only thing that hits my nose, sending the blood in my body rushing to my head. She is touching me in the most inappropriate ways in her sleep, her legs sliding between mine as she rests her mouth right on my chest. The heat of her body is inviting, tempting me in sinful ways.

"Fucking hell..." I grumble, raising both of my hands over my head as I glance at the crown of my head.

She appears so calm this way. Her face is lost in dreams, a soothing air taking over her whole body. She breathes softly, unknown to the fact that she is killing me with this intimacy this early in the morning. I take a glance at the clock on the wall, seeing the time reading close to 7 am. It is early but the office hours start at nine. We both have to be there on time.

However, I have no intention of waking her up. At least in her sleep, she still likes me enough to surrender herself to me. My heart is pounding in my chest. The more she shifts, the faster it beats. My hands remain suspended in the air, making me appear cartoonish. I don't give a damn. This is what I have missed for all these years. Us.

Suddenly, my dreams break as Amaya's eyes snap open. She stays frozen for some time and then slowly tilts her head up, her gaze landing on me.

"Fuck!' she curses, tearing herself away from me and sitting up.

She drags her body down the mat and onto the floor, her palms resting flat on both sides of her body. Her chest rises and falls fast as she gives me a mortified look. I remain speechless, taking my time to get up from my lying position. The quilt surrounds her leg as color rushes in her cheeks. I almost forgot how breathtaking Amaya looked in the mornings just after she woke up.