Chapter Fifty Five
I was in a good place.
After the miracles that Sebastian had performed, we all sat down to watch two back-to-back Disney movies that I hadn't seen since the year 2016: Brave and Frozen. I had no idea where Bash had gotten either one of them or how he'd known I'd been a heavy lover of Disney films, but my delight upon seeing the perfectly preserved DVDs had been nothing short of explosive.
"Are you serious?!" I'd screeched, screaming and clutching his shirt and shaking it. "YOU SERIOUSLY HAVE SECOND GEN DISNEY MOVIES?! WHAT ARE YOU, A WIZARD OR SOMETHING?"
Everyone aside from Cassidy and Diana had laughed at my off-the-walls exuberance, but then we'd all settled down. Sebastian and I had taken one of the smaller couches since it had provided a better angle to put his feet up. Tiffany and Woody had both sat down on the big couch, and Diana had gotten snuggled up with Cassidy on the third remaining couch.
We'd pressed play and I'd gotten chills since the nostalgic intro for Brave had started, and the entire time I'd watched it I'd been smiling.
Who could blame me? It was magical.
I had a belly full of warm, yummy food and delicious dessert, and now I was watching a movie that I hadn't seen in years, a movie that I'd genuinely loved. I drew my legs up on the couch and set my head in the crook of Sebastian's armpit, relaxing under that warm, half-awake feeling.
I must have been more tired than I'd realized because I didn't even remember falling asleep.
All I knew was that one second there was nothingness, the next I was stirring, completely warm from head to toe and basking in the sensation. I blinked a few times and blearily peered around to see that the movie was still playing, but Cassidy, Tiffany, Diana, and even Woody were gone.
I faintly made out the sound of morning birds chirping and stifled an exhausted yawn.
I'd definitely fallen asleep, but couldn't recall when, just that the room had been quiet and warm and had practically soothed me. I started to sit up, fully intending to go to my room and sleep the rest of the day away, but I froze when I felt the odd softness and heat beneath my body.
It was then that I realized I wasn't lying on the couch.
Sebastian had shifted both of us at some point during the film and had flopped down on his back with his long legs hanging over one edge and his head cradled by the other, as if he were lying down in a stationary hammock. I was curled up on and against his chest with a blanket thrown over me, my head resting comfortably between the crook of his shoulder and cheek.
I carefully rolled over on top of him and sleepily looked at his relaxed face.
His rugged features were softer in sleep, the lines that made him so fierce almost non-existent.
He had long eyelashes.
I couldn't help but wonder, again, why he would do all this.
My cheeks went crimson as I burrowed beneath the covers, hand wandering to touch my lips. How was this going to change our relationship? Was it going to change at all? What were Sebastian and I, anyway? What did this bode in terms of the future? What exactly did I feel for him, for that matter? What did he feel for me?
Perhaps Woody was right.
He'd gone above and beyond to give me something that would change my life forever, and it had... it genuinely had. He'd given me a way to feel more normal than I was, a joy from my past that I had missed more than anything... the ability to eat and taste like I once did.
It was overwhelming, really, since my mind was racing over all the savory possibilities.
He gave me something far more precious than any material gift, I mentally mused, curling up a little more and pressing my cheek against his shirt with a small sigh. He may have started out hating me... but maybe things are different now. He wouldn't have done this if he thought I was a monster or even if he had ulterior motives... there's nothing for him to gain from it.
I thought over everything that had happened and mentally calculated how long it had been since we'd gotten to know each other. It was the eighth of September and we'd met about five days before my birthday, on July fifteenth... so, a little over a month and a half.
"Too soon to get serious," I softly mumbled, thinking aloud. "Especially after everything that initially happened, but maybe if we make more progress... just maybe, we can take the next step forward when he and I go dancing. Perhaps if things go well, he and I..."
I trailed off, thinking about what I wanted.
Maybe then he and I could -- tentatively -- start dating each other.
It wouldn't be that bad, right? If he could prove to me he would never hurt me again, that he truly believed in me, I didn't think I'd have any problem with going out with him. For one thing, he was one hell of a catch on the physical side... for another, he was fully financially stable. Most importantly, though, was the fact that he knew what I was and still seemed to be fine with it.
Maybe, I tentatively thought, chewing on my lip, maybe once he proves to me that he can, and will, accept all parts of me... then...
A soft yawn suddenly broke my thoughts and I felt Sebastian shift against me, making my pulse quicken involuntarily. I turned my head just as he opened his striking amber eyes and surveyed the scene, but he didn't move until he inhaled. Instantly, his head swiveled and our eyes met.
An inch rested between our noses, but the close proximity didn't unsettle me.
Not like it used to, anyway.
"You're awake," he rumbled softly. I shivered and my face burned a bit as the timbre of his voice reverberated through his chest and physically tingled against my belly.
"Yeah. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," I said quietly. "Sorry."
He snorted, eyes growing half-lidded, but instead of responding he carefully wrapped an arm around my waist and kept it there, warming me up even further. I swallowed and relaxed under the waves of body heat cresting over me. I honestly could never get enough of it.
This was another thing I had missed... the warmth of another life.
"Did you want to get up?"
I blinked, but my lips curled a bit and I shook my head. "No... I'm fine."
We fell silent again, the only sounds in the room coming from the movie. I was oddly lulled even though I knew I shouldn't have been. It likely had to do with the fact that I'd eaten something since this comfortable exhaustion was vaguely familiar to me. I twitched, roused into full-wakefulness by the sensation of warm fingers threading through my hair and cresting against my scalp. Tingles ran down my spine and I shivered pleasantly, soothed by the foreign feeling.
"I haven't felt... this at peace... In many, many years," Sebastian suddenly rasped. "I... want you, like this, to wake up and feel you beside me. I want... to... know you. To give you smiles, and... memories... that won't upset you. I simply do not... know how... to do so, or... to pace myself."
There it was again... that clipped, slow, somewhat frustrated tone he used. He really was trying to express himself, and even though he was exceedingly bad at finding the right way to put his thoughts into words, he was still making a huge effort.
Lifting a hand, I snaked it out of the blankets and touched his cheek.
Unfamiliar scruff met my fingertips.
"You gave me something today that really did change my life," I murmured, then took a deep breath to steady my fluttering pulse. "I'm hearing you... and what you want... but Sebastian, you have to understand that for me... things like romance and sex... they're the very last edge."
His breathing paused in his throat.
"What do you mean... the very last edge?" he lowly growled. "I do not... understand."
I turned my head and made eye contact with him, looking at his bushy, furrowed brows and that confused quirk to his lips.
"I treasure myself," I told him quietly, refusing to so much as blink. "For all my faults, for all my insecurities, I am who I am... and for me, sex isn't just about pleasure. It's... well, this is going to sound extremely corny, but it's the highest expression of love that I could ever give someone. If I sleep with someone, it's because I'm literally giving them my all. My heart, my body, my love, my everything... the edge that I can't come back from, the very last edge."
He stared at me intently, listening to every word... soaking them up, really. After a moment, though, his face changed. His eyes flashed to a bright yellow and suddenly he looked mean, but the aggression wasn't being directed at me... at least, I didn't think it was.
"He hurt you that badly," he growled, closing those brilliant eyes. "Your hesitation towards me isn't just because of what I did to you, is it? It's... also because of what he did to you..."
I swallowed and hoarsely said, "that moment when he discovered what I was... I truly thought we would pull through, that he would understand me and that we would work through it like everything else we'd faced. Instead... he completely destroyed me from the inside out."
I heard a growl and felt the vibration rippling through his chest and throat.
His arm tightened around me.
"Further proof that he was an idiot," he snarled, then caught himself and quietly seethed, "I... would ne--"
"If I give myself to you the way you want," I interrupted, and he fell quiet, "I will end up devoting my entire life to you in the end, because that's the kind of person I am. It's the last wall... beyond that, there aren't really any emotional or physical barriers, which will leave me completely..."
I trailed off, not knowing how to explain what I felt about it. I couldn't think of a word, couldn't think of how to express that emotion, that feeling, that...
"Vulnerable."
I twitched and met his gaze, but he didn't look angry anymore... the magma-like glow in his eyes dimmed the way cooling lava would as he regarded me through an expression that clearly said he understood. His claw-tipped fingers slid through my hair and came to rest against the back of my head, sending pleasant heat into my scalp.
"Yeah," I muttered. "Vulnerable... and I'm scared of that, which is why I'm taking it slow. I saw the bad side of you first, Sebastian... I saw and experienced first-hand what you get like when you perceive someone to be a threat, and it was... painful, and frightening, and... overall, hard."
He didn't blink, didn't speak, merely made eye contact with me.
Listening.
"You're scared of me."
I twitched, eyes widening at the quiet tone he'd used, but then I calmed down and thought about it... really thought about it. I couldn't deny that, deep down, part of me was in fact terribly afraid of him. Not in the 'he's going to kill me brutally' way I'd been before... now, it was more like an 'I don't know if I can trust him with my heart or life because I've seen him at his worst' kind of fear. It was more rational... or was it irrational?
I didn't fucking know.
The whole situation was too damn bizarre to tell.
"I am," I admitted, tucking my cheek into the crook of his neck. "I really am. Not in the way I used to be, really, because I've seen and heard enough to know that you no longer consider me a threat or a monster. I'm afraid of you in the same way that I think you might be afraid of me."
I heard a snort as he growled, "me? Afraid of you?"
"Aren't you?" I asked simply, and his breathing went still again. "You almost never show me how you're feeling on the inside."
"I have explained that I am not... articulate... in expressin--"
"Not like how you try to put your thoughts and heart into words," I cut in, shaking my head against the fabric of his shirt. "I'm talking about your expressions. I don't know if it's... a habit that you developed to protect yourself, or if it just stems from your age overall, but you... hide your feelings from your face. I've only ever seen you look at me with pure emotion once."
He seemed a little surprised by that, but it quickly vanished. "It is, in fact... a habit. It is... as you said that night on the cliff... about my pack, and... my insecurities. I cannot... let myself show... any weaknesses because I... am the one they look up to... when they are afraid, or don't know what to do, or need guidance. To them... I am... and must remain... unshakable."
"I'm not them," I flatly pointed out, and he twitched, staring at me. "That's the point I'm trying to make. If you really have an interest in dating me, or possibly having a future together... you have to at least make an effort to not mask yourself the way you do with them."
"Why?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.
Why.
That question asked so much despite being only one innocent little syllable.
I took a deep breath, then let it out.
"For starters," I said, frowning at him, "its for that reason alone that I still can't tell when you even went from wanting to kill me to wanting me sexually. I don't know you the way your friends do and I'm also extremely dense when it comes to reading other people. I'm not a mind reader, okay? You have to be more open with your feelings because if you don't express them to me on occasion, I can promise you that I will never, ever be able to really figure you out."
He stared at me again in total silence, irises flitting back and forth across my face.
"Then," he said slowly, mouth barely moving, "I will... attempt... to be even more open with you, but I believe you have forgotten that... I already told you, clearly, that I have difficulty with it. I speak mostly through my actions... and I have been trying, hard, to show you how badly I want you without pushing past boundaries you are not ready to cross."
I blinked, thinking about that in depth.
"Are you... saying that by... kissing me, and... wanting to... hit third base," I mumbled, flushing hot for a second, "you've been trying to tell me that... you..."
I couldn't say it. I wouldn't say it.
Woody couldn't have been right, there was no way that he--
"I want you to let me love you."
The world tilted and my pulse skipped one beat... two beats... three beats. I took a ragged breath in, and let it out, ears ringing, finding it hard to think--
"I... am... in love with you," he viciously growled. "It happened... gradually, little by little, but there was always an... attraction to you on my end. Even when... I first attacked you, and took your home. I thought... I truly thought, at first, that my body was drawn to the pull of Jasper's influence on you. I thought... my physical reactions to you were happening because of... him, and his blood, and his powers echoing through you. I was wrong. I was... attracted to you."
I felt like I was drowning, like I was suffocating, like the room was closing in on me.
"You... seriously?" I squeaked, hardly able to breathe.
"I admit it," he hissed, sounding frustrated; the arm around me flexed like an iron bar. "I tried... to hide it because I didn't trust you, and I was... angry... so angry... at Jasper, for abandoning me and breaking his marriage vows. I took... that hate out on you. I went against my body and my own instincts and tried to chalk you up as just another... ruthless... monster. And... I regret it."
My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and I was frozen on his chest.
Sebastian, OH MY GOD, had just admitted that he loved me!
My brain is gonna melt, I mentally whimpered, but aloud I asked, "when did you start to realize that you were actually in love with me?"
His answer was prompt.
"The moment I saw your face when Richard threw your photo albums into the fire," he muttered, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I knew immediately."
"Why?"
"Because... I wanted... to rip my own friend's throat out... for putting that look in your eyes."
I shuddered, remembering that night and the pain that had come along with it.
"Is that why you acted the way you did when you came to talk to me?" I asked. "Why you got so mad at me and tried to get me to talk to you?"
"Yes," he muttered. "I knew, but refused to allow myself to accept it... I began to clash internally, because the animal in me wanted you and the human in me wouldn't let it have you. I wouldn't accept it... but over time, I kept getting drawn in. I kept fighting."
"When did you decide to stop, and why?" I asked; I wanted to know the definite answer to this, because it was the one thing that I still couldn't figure out.
Unfortunately, my simple question caused him to blow his top and his eyes turned yellow.
I froze, eyes widening in alarm when he bared his fangs at me.
"That night on the cliff is when everything changed! Everything!" he snarled so aggressively that I flinched against him. "How dense are you?! Why can't you figure that out?!"
I flinched a second time and shivered, which made him pause and then deflate with a sigh.
"Forgive me. That was out of line. I... it is hard and frustrating for me to talk like this."
"I... kind of understand," I mumbled. "I'm sorry for not being able to figure it out on my own, but we're back to the mind reader thing, you know? I just can't do it... your mask is too good for me to see past... so, unless you specifically tell me or open up... I'll never know."
"Why do you want to?"
Uh... that was actually a very good question.
I thought about it deeply for a long time, wondering at it, because again... I was extremely confused about the whole situation and I could have simply walked away at any time. I was, in fact, a free person now if his intentions were as honest as he said.
I could have gone right back to my apartment in Michigan.
I chewed on my lip, ignoring the heat of his eyes on me, before I sighed.
"I'm going to be perfectly honest," I said, turning so I was facing him. "Sebastian, you confuse the hell out of me. I don't understand you." I paused, staring at the stubble on his jaw as I thought about that. "Well, I do understand you—some of the time."
Confusion made his eyes spark.
His throat moved when he swallowed.
"I'm going to get kind of vulnerable here," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "so please don't make fun of me, or take it lightly."
"Vulner..." he said, clearly not comprehending what I was saying at all. "What are—"
"I trust you," I said.
He froze.
"You frustrate me," I went on, keeping my tone as conversational as I could. "You're infuriatingly vague sometimes, but as much as that annoys me, I think I'd be deluding us both if I didn't mention that it intrigues me, too."
"I intrigue you?" he repeated. He seemed stunned though he tried hard not to show it.
I nodded.
"I have issues, and I'm indecisive, but honestly? I want to figure you out," I muttered. "Don't ask me to explain why -- I just do. You do these weird things that I don't understand and I find myself thinking about them for days, just trying to make it all make sense. To make you make sense."
I got a little too brave for my own good, I think: I shifted my legs and sat up, looking down at him more clearly so I could place my hand on his chest, pressing skin lightly into the fabric of his shirt until I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. Heat made my palm tingle like it had fallen asleep. Sebastian stared down at that hand for a long moment before looking up at me, gaze sharp and unsure.
"I wear my heart on my sleeve," I said as clearly as I could. "You can look at me and know how I'm feeling just by smelling the air, but even without that I'm an open book. Call me crazy, but I feel like that's given you a bit of an advantage over me."
"An... advantage?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.
"Yeah," I confirmed, swallowing as I felt his heart thump against his chest. "You have better senses than I do, you're stronger, faster, and wiser... you've already begun to discover what can drive me crazy and what makes me so mad that I can't see straight, but you also seem to have figured out, little by little, the things that make me happy, too."
He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, then stopped and clenched his jaw.
His eyes burned into mine like flames.
"The point I'm trying to drive home is that I genuinely trust you," I said, fisting my hand against his chest. "It didn't come easy, believe me, but even when you were at your absolute worst you were honest. So, I guess what I'm saying is that I want you to trust me, too."
"Who says that I don't?" he demanded, eyes dropping to a dangerous and sleepy half-mast. One of his hands rose as if it were about to tuck my hair behind my ear, hovering beside my face.
"You did, the moment you got mad when I told you I was going dancing at a club," I said, nonplussed despite how hard my heart was hammering in my chest in response to his sudden closeness.
He scowled, hand dropping. "I was not angry at--"
"If I hadn't cut you off, you would have said my actions had nothing to do with you," I pointed out, and to his credit he looked uncomfortable. "The only thing I've come to suspect about your overall behavior is that... when you're hurt... you lash out in anger."
Shock made his eyes open wide.
"Hurt?" he asked.
"Yes, hurt... I know what I saw in your eyes, and for whatever reason my choice to try and move forward -- before I invited you to come with me -- hurt you, and I still don't know why," I informed him, soothingly rubbing his chest. "That's what I mean when I say I can't figure you out. No matter how bipolar I can be, not knowing how to read you can really limit how well I react to your moods. It takes two to tango, Sebastian... and right now neither of us is dancing in rhythm."
We looked at one another for a few moments that dragged out into nearly a minute, and then his hand closed around my left wrist; his fingers lined up perfectly with the healed break, but he was extremely gentle when he pulled me back down and onto his chest.
My chin thumped against his shoulder, and he once again wrapped his arm around me.
"Aerin."
My spine tingled at the honey-dark sound of my name, a name whispered like a chant in the dimness of Woody's living room. I felt his palm alight on the side of my throat, and when it did I think I forgot to breathe.
"I," he said slowly, brushing his fingers against my jugular, "am not... a gentle man."
"So you've said," I reminded him; I flinched when he gripped the back of my neck, cupping it gently despite the claim that he wasn't gentle. I shivered as his grip slipped downward, fingers twining into my hair, rough thumb tracing the ridge of my spine.
I twitched when he used that grip to pull my head back, forcing visual contact.
"I think and feel... differently," he said slowly. "I act on instinct. My emotions are wild and uncontrolled, which is why I speak through my actions. Trying to put my heart into words is about as difficult as catching smoke in a jar."
"I get that," I said in a small voice, "but if you hadn't told me that, I never would have known. That's why you need to communicate with me, even if its hard. Please..."
Eyes glittered; lips moved; his voice shuddered up my spine.
"I admit, I was... hurt," he roughly muttered. "I have... no reason for feeling that way. I simply... was. I fully... intended to lash out, but... you saw right through me." He paused for a moment, then looked at me intently. "Do you still want to know when things changed?"
"Yes," I peeped, swallowing hard.
He clenched his jaw, then, and tensely wriggled it from side to side.
"That night, it was the things you said, and the things that happened," he growled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "You sang to me... the lyrics of that song and the way you were looking at me drove beneath my skin. That moment... was when I truly regretted hurting you for the first time, because I knew... that I wanted you for myself. You poured your heart out, but I still fought. I hurt you, and then insulted you, and my stubbornness... almost got you killed."
"You still saved me," I thickly pointed out.
"I would not have had to if I had simply taken you that night instead of refusing you," he hissed into my ear, squeezing my middle. "If I had done things differently... you might have been mine then and there, because you were willing to give yourself to me."
I winced, realizing that he had a point... but at the same time, I had been sloshed.
I'd barely remembered what had happened the next morning.
"I was shit-faced drunk," I reminded him. "If anything, holding back may have been the right thing to do."
"The past cannot be changed, so I don't dwell in it more than I need to," he grunted, sliding his hand up my shirt and rubbing my bare back with burning skin. "The point I am trying to make is that we are a very complicated pair. Our ways of expressing ourselves are... different."
I took a deep breath and let it out, closing my eyes. I listened to the movie for a few moments, listening to princess Merida's breakdown over her mother's transformation into a bear, before I made a decision. It was a decision I didn't know if I was going to regret.
A decision that scared me.
A decision that felt like it was happening too soon.
Lifting my head, I turned and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. Electricity zapped me and I shuddered, breath catching... but his eyes... the way they fixed on mine, growing intense and dark and yet, somehow brightening in a weird way...
It made me tingle.
His skin burned against mine as I lifted my hand and gently cupped his cheek, holding him and the kiss in place for a very long time. My pulse thundered in my neck, throbbing in my wrists, every beat sending a little twitch through my limbs, but eventually I pulled back.
His face seemed hard and those pools of amber lingered on my mouth.
Something between us shifted in that moment, an unfamiliar tension that saturated the air.
My pulse, a traitorous and uncontrollable thing, began to sprint, and then he leaned forward and I felt his lips press lightly against mine again. Air hitched in my lungs, diaphragm going paralytic as he swept his tongue—hotter than anything ever—over my lips in a scalding scrape that didn't make me want to flinch away at all, and then he pulled back.
Although my lips felt uncommonly hot, the rest of me started to shiver and he watched with obvious satisfaction as I grew increasingly frazzled.
"Oh," I said, and he leaned in, pressing his mouth against my throat. I squeaked when he licked my jugular and brushed his lips against it. The animalistic nature of his actions suited him, oddly, although to me they made him resemble a lazy jungle cat indulging in something innocent despite being full of calculated sensuality.
I lost my senses completely, although I'm not sure when. I'd already lost track of how much time had passed during his unorthodox treatment. I figured it was another werewolf thing, like the biting and domination stuff he'd done before, but this time it felt so different in nature.
Sebastian breathed against me and grinned, lips curving against my trembling skin.
It was almost too much... but I wasn't exactly complaining.
"What are you doing...?" I tried to whisper, but words failed me when his teeth pricked my skin in a warning punctuated by a rumbling growl. I'd forgotten about his preternaturally sharp fangs, forgot how dangerous they could be, so I let him soothe my skin the way he wanted, one half of my brain screaming at me that this was so awkward, what the hell are you letting him do to you, Aerin?, and the other half whispering that this wasn't so bad, now was it? If he's this good with his mouth on your neck imagine what he'd be like if you—
That's dangerous, said the last rational part of my brain to survive his slow assault. Don't even go there.
I didn't once open my eyes as he made my skin catch fire beneath his lips and teeth and tongue.
When he finished, I thought he'd just pull away and be done with it, leaving me in a puddle of confused goo, but instead he kept his face against my neck. I was sure he could feel my pulse pounding; surely it was visible beneath my pale skin, an undulating flag of declaration and want.
The hairs on my spine and scalp rose as his breath fanned over my winding veins and shallowly breathing throat, waves of heat that left me cold and wanting another rush to warm me back up. I felt myself relax in spite of his behavior, and my thoughts on just what the heck he was doing almost bled away until he finally pulled back and looked me straight in the eyes.
We stared at one another for a few moments that dragged out into nearly a minute.
"What is it you wish to do from here?" he suddenly asked. "What must I do to keep you?"
I blinked, startled, and took a juddering breath to calm down.
I needed to think.
"First," I said in a voice that came out so quiet I could barely hear it, "let's take things... slowly. I... well, you admitted that you love me and I never... thought... I would ever hear you say those words, I couldn't even think of it as being a possibility... but... since, you... do..."
I hesitated, snapping my eyes shut.
"Since I do?" he prodded.
"Let's... work... towards being together," I mumbled, shoulders hunching to my ears as I fought to find something, anything, to say. And then... like the snap of a whip, an idea hit me. An idea so genius, so fucking smart, so intellectual that I was shocked. "By working with Louise, as... as a prospective couple. Let's... try to work through some of our lingering issues using therapy."
Sebastian stiffened, staring at me with hard eyes.
His mouth tightened and I could see that he immediately hated the idea. I knew his response was going to be a cold, hard no when he opened his mouth to say---
"Fine," he sourly grumped. "If you... think that doing so will... help... the two of us... fine."
My jaw dropped and I blinked, staring at him in actual shock.
"Whoa, what?! You mean it?!" I squawked, raising my head up higher. "Are you serious?!"
"I didn't stutter," he sneered, narrowing his eyes at me. "Don't push your luck."
I couldn't help it... I actually grinned because he was taking my suggestion seriously and I hadn't been expecting that at all.
"All right!" I laughed, shaking my head as I settled back down. "I'll talk to her about it during our next session and work on getting the appointments set up."
"Hn."
He seemed a little disgruntled, but at the very least, he'd proven something to me.
He was willing to listen even if he didn't like it.
That was a huge step forward.
Another, much quieter step forward on my part, was the fact that I felt comfortable enough in his presence to intentionally snuggle back down against his massive chest and fall asleep on him.
Which, I'm not proud to say, I managed to do within minutes.
Don't blame me.