South of SomeWhere (-Editing-)

|Cinnamon|

I wake up to the warm tickle of cinnamon. And John. He is sitting placidly on the end of my bed, smiling his cocky, self confident smile. "Hi," he says softly. He gets up and in one smooth movement settles himself on the edge my bed, legs crossed. I notice he's holding a brown paper bag, and the smell coming from it makes my mouth water.

"What's in the bag?" I ask trying to keep my voice steady and calm. Inside I'm leaping for joy.

'He came! He stayed!' my addled brain keeps repeating.

"You want to open it?" his voice holds a husky edge of sleep, his long forgotten accent creeping in. He hands it to me and with trembling fingers, I open the top. Inside is a small, circular load of warm cake. Instantly, I knew what it is.

"Carrot cake?" I ask not bothering to keep the excitement out of my voice.

He nods.

"How did you know?" I question, and he smiles that

As I roll over onto my back, he lays down next to me on the quilt. I plunk another piece of cake in my mouth, ignoring the fact there will probably be crumbs in the bed clothes.

"When you were at the market with your cousin, you mentioned your love for it." He looks embarrass for a minute, and then, takes the bag, and breaks off a bite for himself. I sigh and thoughtfully chew my piece, letting the tangy flavored roll over my tongue and resigning myself to the fact that I would never get used to his stalker tendencies.

"Why are you back?" I asks lowly. I'm not I even want the answer, but a part of me really wants to know.

"I didn't want to leave. You didn't want me to either."

"No duh Sherlock." I giggle and want to smack myself over how idiotic I sound.

"You look beautiful."

My love sopped brain stumbles over itself like a tipsy dancer girl and runs into a steel wall - the wall of Keernan O' Byrn.

"What am I going to say to Keernan?" I groan loudly, scrubbing my hand over my face. An achy guilt seizes my chest. "I am such a terrible person! Snogging with your brother and then...gaaaah!" I bury my face in the pillow and let out a loud wail.

Dramatic much?

"Waverley." Taking my hands gently from in front of my face, he presses a kiss to the palm of my right hand, then my left. I shiver. The crisp air of a clear winter morning wraps around us, and I cuddle in closer to his body heat. "We will deal with that bridge when we cross it."

"But Keernan...what about....what will...oh gads!" I give up trying to vocalise the questions running at Olympic speed through my head and instead, moan and bury my face in John's shoulder. "Can I please stay here forever and never get up?" I mumble, humiliated.

The vibration of John's laugh rumbles through me, warming me to the core and making me feel safe. "I wish," he muses, his voice carrying a wistful edge. "Life would be so much simpler then, wouldn't it?"

I nod snuggling deeper into his warmth. My eyes are growing sleepy, and I breath in the scent of musk. "Would it be appropriate to ask for five more minutes?" By now, the empty paper bag is somewhere squished between us, the smell of sugar and spice still permeating the room.

Rolling over to his side, our eyes meet before he draws me into his sweater clad chest. "Why not?"

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