𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 | 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦

05

quinn

they say you don't remember anything in the three seconds after you wake up.

but they never said anything about not feeling anything.

the first thing i was aware of that the housekeeper must've changed the sheets, because damn, these were miles better than the ones i had in my room, and those were already top tier. these felt like sleeping in a solidified ocean- smooth, silky, and felt like it could swallow me whole in its fast-changing temperature. i could probably sleep in these forever if i tried.

the second thing i noticed was that this bed definitely did not smell like the stark, sheets tucked so tight you could bounce a coin on bed. that had smelled like lavender fabric softener. this smelled distinctly masculine, expensive cologne with a hint of chlorine that was not unlike swimming pools.

the third thing i felt was the hard thing pressed into my back, emanating a heat that could rival the sun, but not in a way you would be able to phsically feel. this warmth felt like it was wrapping itself around my heart so, so tight, but without the pain. the thing slotted perfectly against my back- it curved where i curved, and i could feel the lines etched into it- seemingly so cruelly cut by a clay sculptor's knife, but while hard and solid held an undeniable softness to them.

and then i was fully awake because i realized the thing breathed, from the way it steadily rose and fell.

the world came in flashes, splotches of black from sleep still clouding my vision. i saw a mass of dark gray, the same that enveloped my body in such a comforting warmth. i felt something hard around my waist that kept me pressed against the unidentified breathing person, and from the way it twined around the most of one side of my waist and split into five different points at the other side, it was an arm. a very strong arm.

i tried to shift to the side, but the person's grip was too strong- in a way that wasn't suffocating, but confining enough to keep my in place.

then i realized my hands were firmly clutched onto the arm in a way that screamed 'please don't leave me.' my fingers were white with force, though the person the arm was connected to didn't seem to feel anything.

i finally managed to move a little to the side, and the arm tightened, pulling me flush against the person's body, as if not letting me go.

the sudden skin on skin contact from where my dress didn't cover my back sent a fresh wave of heat throughout my body. but i managed to loosen myself from the person's grip just enough to turn to face them, my head shifting on the pillow, and i found myself face to face with a head of ash blonde hair, tousled from sleep, and a face that looked like it was carved out of stone. though it didn't look as severe right now, softened with sleep.

right now, i could almost believe grayson davenport hawthorne was human.

i sucked in a breath and was about to move to wake him when those beautiful gray eyes fluttered open, and what i saw in them made me scream.

grayson

she felt so, so warm.

somehow, through the night we'd both instinctively moved closer to each other, to a spot situated in the center of the king-size, and sometime in the night i'd pulled her close to me, so her back was flush with my body.

faint sunlight streamed through the window, disturbing the impenetrable darkness that came with sleep. i could feel her lithe body shift against mine, and somewhere in my subconsciousness popped up the thought that i didn't want her to leave.

my senses were kicking in now- light found its way into my eyes and the warmth emenating from her sought and found purchase on my skin. i tightened my grip, lightly, pulling her against me.