In your arms

May 22, 2023 - Carina's house

May 22, 2023 – Carina's house

Of all the scenarios that my mind had managed to create, ending Vic's birthday night by literally dragging Carina home, almost picking her up on her shoulders, because she couldn't stand up from how drunk she was, I really couldn't imagine. Dean helped me load her into my car and then it was a feat to manage to drag her up to the fourth floor, where she lives.

Once I closed the door to her house everything actually unfolded more easily than you might think: a kind of familiarity was awakened between us, so Carina allowed herself to be "molded" exactly as I wanted, so I was able to get her to drink some water, change her, and slip her under the sheets. Only when Carina mumbled something unintelligible, as indeed she had been doing for the past two hours, before falling asleep on the spot, did I allow myself to catch my breath. I leaned back on the bed beside her, strictly on top of the sheet, suddenly realizing how incredibly tired I was. And that is probably how, without realizing it, I also fell asleep.

This morning my biological clock made me wake up at 06 a.m. anyway, and since then there has been no way to sleep. I spent almost two hours, lying on my side staring at Carina sleeping. I thus memorized her features, the little wrinkles that formed around her eyes, the tiny freckles created by the sun on her nose, that little trail of moles that runs down her neck to her cleavage. I memorized the perfect way the sheets molded to her body, making her a perfect sculpture in my eyes.

At 8 a.m. reluctantly I got up and tentatively tried to cook Carina something for breakfast before filling a tray and taking her breakfast to bed. I don't want to wake her up, but I'm sure she's forgotten she has to start her shift, too, at 12 p.m. and I want to give her time to recover, take a shower and selfishly spend some time with her.

When I return to the bedroom, Carina is still sleeping blissfully. I place the tray with breakfast on a nightstand, before stopping at the foot of the bed and observing Carina's beauty for a moment longer. I sigh and sit on the bed, stretching out an arm toward her. I try to wake her gently, calling her and at the same time shaking her lightly by one shoulder, but nothing seems to have any effect. I have to laugh, as I move closer to her and dare to caress her face, brushing her hair away from the front of her face.

M < Carina, babe...?> I keep calling her, until she starts mumbling something unintelligible and raises her head, except to smother her face in the pillow and moan, in words unknown to me. I laugh at her reaction and wait patiently for her to realize that I am there with her.

C < Maya!!! Stop laughing and let me sleep!> she moans, still face into the pillow. I smile and dare once again reach out to touch her.

M < I know...but I brought you breakfast..> I pause for a moment and then add. < and I also brought you a painkiller for your head..> I speculate that she may have a very strong migraine as a result of the hangover. Carina sighs, but does not move from her position.

C < how much did I drink?> I smile.

M < a little more than you usually do, I think..> she snorts and finally stands up. I take the opportunity to give her some space, reaching for the breakfast on the nightstand and placing it between us. I watch her carefully study her surroundings: the glass of water with Brufen next to it, the scrambled eggs, espresso, orange juice, slices of bacon, and, to her delight, a handful of homemade cookies I found in her kitchen. Her eyes then move suspiciously to me.

C < did you sleep here?> she asks me point blank. Part of me is a little hurt at the idea of having "wasted" our first night together again, after years, with a hangover, a rude awakening, a sidereal distance, and not even a good morning.