The Silver Fighter | ✓

Is This What They Call Pillowtalk?

A/N: a tad 'inappropriate' moment in the chapter. Not intense or anything. Just cute fluff of sorts.

Hehehehe.

Enjoy, loves!

~•~

The next morning, instead of waking up to Cooper squashing the life out of me, I woke up to the warmth of someone behind me.

Creepy. I know.

Granted, I was used to it considering my mum used to hold me whenever I had a bad nightmare or an attack.

...

BUT, my mum hasn't done that shit in a while so you can imagine my utter confusion when I felt someone behind me.

Even weirder, this person had one hand around my waist and the other in my hair, along with his face in my NECK.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure my mum never did that.

'What. The absolute fuck. Is going on?'

After calmly freezing in place until I felt the fourth breath on my neck, my instincts kicked into action. As if on autopilot, my body swiftly got out from under the covers and swung my legs over the person's lower body in order to straddle their waist. Reaching across my bed, towards the nightstand, I grabbed my switchblade that I keep in there for in case of emergencies and then faced the invader with it.

Now you can imagine was I saw when I looked down.

Satan incarnate who goes by the name of John was under me, staring up at me with his jaw dropped and his arms above his head since I was pinning them there.

My other hand that wasn't restraining his hands was holding the knife less than a centimeter away from his neck.

"What the fuck is happening?" John rasped, his voice still rough from sleep.

'Holy shit that was hot.'

My eyes widened in recognition as I realized who was under me and what the situation looked like.

'Bollocks.'

"Well, I was having a fantastic night's sleep." I begin sarcastically because, to be honest, I felt like literal dog shit. 

I then glared at him as I continued, "Then I wake up to the feeling of your bloody body next to mine. And as you can see, I wasn't expecting it nor did I want it."

John's eyes widened before a lazy smirk took over his face.

'And here we fucking go.'

"Is this how you are in the morning, because if so, I think I'd still rather wake up next to this than my farting grandma who has bladder issues." He murmured, his voice still thick from sleep, as his eyes flit back and forth from the knife at his neck to my eyes.

I rolled my eyes at his statement.

"I could have easily slit your throat at seven a.m. on a Sunday and your first words are about a farting grandma and bladder issues." I muttered, not really understanding the situation.

However, years of getting no sleep whatsoever really help with becoming alert quite quickly. So instead of yawning and rubbing my eyes sleepily, I was glaring with wide-open eyes and not groggy in the least.

'This son of a bachelor honestly thinks I'm going to let him get away with this weird, pervert shit?'

John laughed at me before gently tugging on his hands, silently asking me to let him. I gave him a pointed look as I gazed into his dark brown eyes that were looking at me in such a way that I didn't deserve.