The morning comes - the day I've dreaded deeply. Not only because of the funeral, but because the after gathering was going to be at our house, which means with a perfectionist mother, the house has to be spotless. I didn't want to leave Charlie's arms, to be honest. Our bodies hadn’t moved since last night, his arms wrapped behind me, or also defined as ‘spooning.’ He was so warm, so protective. It was snug. I try squirming out of his arms, when he tightens his grip a little bit.
"Good morning sunshine." He whispers, his morning voice low and raspy, and oh so sexy.
"Morning." I whisper back.
"Why are you waking up now? It's –“He whispers, leaning on his left elbow to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table nearest me. “-six in the morning.”
"I need to see if mum needs any help cleaning the house. Paige won’t do anything, and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve to do it by herself." I reply. “She already has enough on her plate.”
He let's go, to my dismay, and I groan at the fresh air as it hits my bare legs.
Charlie sits up, draping his legs over the bed. "Are you ready for today?” He asks, pulling a pair of sweatpants on, leaving his top half bare.
I shake my head, smiling at the ground. "Nope. But I guess I don't have a choice."
"How are you feeling?" Charlie asks, walking over to my side of the bed.
"Empty. Numb. Bothered. All of the above." I reply, shrugging my shoulders.
"I'm-“
"Here for you, yeah, yeah. Sometimes support isn't enough. Charlie, I-" I take a quick breath, letting it out. "I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye yet."
"There's never a right time. Its continuity, it takes time to get over it." He consoles, ruffling my hair up. "Let's see if we can take your mind off it."
"Cleaning will.” I whisper, fixing my clean hair. “And don’t touch my hair, you weirdo.”
“Am I a weirdo, now?” He asks, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
“Yes, now go over there and help me make the bed.” I shoo him over, but he goes towards me and begins tickling me.
“Am I such a weirdo now?” He whispers, resulting in me letting out a loud noise of a snort, laugh and cry in one.
“Ch-Ch-Charlie! Stop – Hahahaha – Stop!” Is all I can let out, fits of laughter mainly taking up my words.
“Not until you say I’m not a weirdo!”
“Y-you’re n-not a w-w-w-weirdo!”
The tickling ceases, thank goodness. He drops his arms to my waist, looking into my eyes deeply. I wanted him, his eyes were perfect, his lips were so kissable. I wish we could go back to that, but no. Me and my stupid ways. His gaze dropped to my lips, mine fixed on his eyes, and he smiles cheekily.
“Someone’s up early.”
I jump at the voice, Charlie’s arms leaving my side. I twirl my finger round my hair, biting my lip as I face my mother.
“Ma, um, I thought you were asleep…”
“I was. You woke me with your laugh.” She chuckles.
I shake my head, completely and utterly mortified. “Do you need me to clean up the house?”
She shakes her head, pointing to my bed. “Just make the bed. I’ve cleaned everything last night.”
“Are you sure?” Charlie asks. “We don’t mind…”
