Heir to Jotunheim | ✔

Chapter Eight

"Sure." I whispered, watching as he let go and peeled the blankets from the bed. He patted the space beside him, drunk eyes blearily watching mine as he waited for me to lie down next to him.

I rested my head on his chest as he wound his arms securely around me, burying his head just above mine on the pillow. "Thank you."

"Are you feeling better?" His arms squeezed around me tighter, as if telling me he was. "Tyr, I can't stay here all night."

"Why not?" He mumbled sleepily.

I turned, feeling his arms tighten around me once I was able to look up into his face. "You're drunk, and I don't want to ruin-"

"You won't ruin anything." He whispered.

I bit my lip, then fought out of his arms long enough to place pillows between our bodies. "What is this?" He slapped his hand against the cushions.

"Do not cross the line." I mock glared at him, before settling comfortably on the other side.

I could hear his huffing as I rolled to face him, leaning my head just behind the pillow that separated us. His hand stretched across the gap, holding mine with a gentleness that made my cheeks flush.

"Tyr," I warned.

"I like you." His eyes were shut, but his face was directed at me. "I like you Cleopatra."

"Tyr," I was almost breathless, "you are drunk."

"Maybe." He sighed softly, "but I don't lie." His hand squeezed mine as his eyes crept open to look at me. I buried my face in the cushion so he couldn't see, but squeezed his hand. A drunken smile lifted on his face, and he lifted our joined fingers, pressing a delicate kiss to my knuckles.

"Go to sleep," I whispered, as he lowered our hands.

"You should sleep too." He reached up to stroke through my hair, and I found myself wanting to battle against the boundary I had made moments ago. But I didn't want to push it further, and felt myself growing drowsy as he rhythmically played with the escaping curls of my hair.

***

I heard a faint grunt, and my body jolted from its sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to remember my dream, but I woke up when I stretched my hand across the bed and hit something.

I blinked blearily, pulling my upper body up and peered across the room that was darkened from the thick curtains pulled across the windows. Tyrs bed hair was sprawled across the pillow, with his body hidden under a section of the blankets.

I tentatively pulled myself off his chest, and tried to remove my legs from being squashed between his. I heard his half-asleep grumble, and his hand snuck out to pat the bed, searching for me.

His eyes slowly opened, and when he saw me lying beside him, a smile grew across his lips. The pillows I'd carefully built between us were now scattered over the blankets on the bed, and across the floor.

"Morning," he rubbed at his eyes, before rolling onto his back, and sat upright. His voice was rougher than usual, holding the sleep he'd just woken from. He gestured to the water on the table beside him, "Can I-?"

"I put it there for you," I smiled, pulling a cushion over my lap to try and distract myself from his appearance. His long tangled curls were sticking out at all angles away from his face, and I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from them.

He could see me watching him, and I saw his cheeks flush a pale pink. I jumped up to my feet, embarrassed I'd been caught, and stumbled back to the door. "Do you want any more clothes?"