Amara's POV:
My eyes fight their way open to find myself still comfortably and happily in Mason's arms, I look up to see him already awake and looking down at me.
"Mason!" I jump, startled to find him staring at me.
"Sorry." he chuckles, clearly amused.
"I didn't want to move and wake you up." he tells me and I can't help but smile.
"I guess I can forgive you..." I roll my eyes playfully.
"You guess?" he says with his eyebrow raised as he hovers over me.
"I guess." I repeat, trying to hold back my smirk.
"Take it back." he says slowly as he begins to tickle me.
Absolutely not the direction I seen this going in.
"No!" I yell through my laughter as I squirm around, frantically trying to escape the barriers of his arms at either side of me.
"Take it back." he laughs as he continues to tickle me.
"Okay, okay! I take it back!" I whine as he stops, trying to catch his breath from laughing and flopping down beside me. I love seeing the playful side to Mason, especially in the mornings. I couldn't have started my day any better.
"Are you going to be all moody now?" he teases and I elbow him in the side.
"You're really on a roll this morning." I huff and he pulls me towards him, to which I instinctively lay my head on his chest.
"You wouldn't have it any other way." he states smugly.
"Nope, I wouldn't." I exhale as I trace his tattoo.
"You really like that, don't you?" he asks as his eyes follow mine down to the quote on his arm.
"I do, I told you I think it's beautiful." I say softly as I read it.
"Will you please let me hear you play guitar sometime?" I whine and plea, he sighs slightly in return.
"Okay."
"What? Really?" I say in surprise as I prop myself up on my elbows to look at him.
"Yes, really." he rolls his eyes.
I smile widely and watch his eyes slowly dart away, he can't hold eye contact in moments like these.
I slowly peck his lips and pull away, standing up to grab a pair of shorts when an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back into the bed.
"Mason, we have to get up." I laugh.
"But this bed is so comfortable, and I want to stay here with you." he whines.
"Five more minutes." I say in defeat, wrapping my arm around him. He knows I can't say no to him when he's so sweet.
——————
We spent most of the day in bed after that, we had breakfast with Carol and Steve—and my mom took Izzy to the park. It's almost five and Mason and I are back in bed watching some action movie on the flat screen TV in here. It's been perfect, if I'm honest. Mason and I have had no disagreements, and after we got everything out last night we've been great. We've spent hours just watching movies and goofing around.
Neither of us have changed out of our pyjamas. I'm still wearing his shirt—and a pair of shorts.. since I couldn't walk around here in my underwear, even if I was covered. Mason has a grey shirt and sweatpants on, and still looks just as attractive.
"Okay, we're getting up now, I'm hungry. No arguments." I say assertively and stand up fast enough to avoid him pulling me back down. He throws his head back dramatically and groans.
"But-"
"Mason." I glare at him.
"Fine." he sulks like a child and stands to his feet.
I turn around to see him taking off his shirt to change it. I've seen him shirtless multiple times, but I still feel myself melt each time. Everything about him is just so perfect. Every ripple in his chest, every muscle, every intricately inked line that manifests on his skin creating new designs on his arms.
"You're gawking." he teases and I break from my daze.
"I was not." I scoff as I pretend to make the bed, distracting myself from staring at him as he changes into a pair of dark blue jeans.
"Aren't you changing?" he asks.
"Not right now." I reply as I run my hand along the surface of the bed, flattening the creases.
We emerge from our room for the first time since breakfast, earning a mixture of worried and moderately ashamed looks from my family, making me laugh.
"Look who decided to get up. Sleeping beauty and... Mason." Steve jokes, and even Mason laughs it off. They have this weird playful teasing between them now, I much prefer it to the tension.. but it's weird.
"Yeah, yeah." I roll my eyes as I scoop my hair up, tying it on top of my head in an attempt to make myself look slightly more presentable. I notice Steve's face drop as well as my moms, while Carol begins to laugh. I furrow my brow at Mason, wondering what the hell just happened and I see his cheeks flush slightly. What the hell?
"What?" I raise my eyebrow.
"You have a mysterious bruise on your neck, darling girl." Carol says through her laughter and I feel my cheeks flush immediately, I pull my hair down quickly and cover my neck frantically.
"Little bit late for that now." Steve sighs, although I can see a small laugh playing on his lips. Meanwhile my mom just looks unamused. I don't know why, she must know what we do by now.
"I have to um, go to the bathroom." I mumble, my voice full of embarrassment. I notice Mason following behind me and stop in the hallway.
"Mason! You didn't tell me you left a freaking hickey on my neck!" I try to yell but whisper at the same time.
"I didn't notice!" he says uncomfortably, I can tell how awkward that made him.
"And can you just say fucking? It's a lot more powerful." he smirks and I glare at him.
"Okay, we just have to walk back in there like we don't care that they saw it." I say as I take a deep breath in and Mason rolls his eyes.
"Do you have a better plan?" I ask, raising my eyebrow with my hands on my hips.
"No." he scoffs in defeat.
"So it's agreed." I shrug.
"You look hot when you do that, all bossy and shit." he teases.
"Shut up." I narrow my eyes before walking back into the living room.
"I'm starved." I groan as I walk past everyone, trying to break the silence.
"What's that on your neck?" Izzy asks and I cringe a little.
"She hurt it." Mason chirps from behind me and I nod along.
"Is it sore?" she asks, scrunching her nose up.
"Not really." my voice is even more high pitched than before.
"Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?" Carol asks me, smiling as she sits down. Saving me from my awkward conversation with her daughter.
"That would be great.. we're not ready, though." I tell her.
"Just you and I." she says and I notice Mason's face scrunch up.
"What about-"
"He can stay here, Steve wont bite." she jokes and we both laugh awkwardly, thinking back to the last time Mason and Steve spent time alone.
"You don't have to, I just wanted to have some time together before you leave tomorrow." Carol smiles warmly and I look at Mason, trying to judge his expression.
"It's fine, you should go." he fakes a smile.
"Are you sure?" I ask cautiously.
"Go." he says softly, resting his hand on the small of my back reassuringly.
I agree to dinner and head to the bathroom to shower. One of the bathrooms, that is. As the hot water cascades down my body I close my eyes and relish in the tranquillity it gives me. Despite Mason and I's blow up last night, and the fact it was possibly the most terrifying moment I've experienced in years.. I'm so happy to be here with him.
I'm also really looking forward to spending some time with Carol. She possibly could be my favorite person on earth, sorry Mason. I'm so lucky to have had Carol with me the past few years, I sincerely don't think I could've done it without her.
As I step out of the shower I wrap a towel around my body, and pad into the bedroom to get ready. Luckily the bathroom is an En-suite, yet it is still twice the size of my bathroom at home. I throw on one of Mason's shirts and some underwear, just until I dry my hair and do my makeup. I plop myself down on the cushioned stool in front of the mirror, which is propped up on a glossy brown table.
After I dry my hair I begin to attempt some winged eyeliner. Why, you may ask? I don't know. I take the lid off of my liquid liner and stare at it for a second, trying to prepare myself for the disaster that's waiting to happen, contained in a small black pen.
"Why are you having a staring contest with a sharpie?" Masons voice beams mockingly from the doorway.
"It's makeup." I grunt as I roll my eyes at him, moving slightly closer to the mirror to maximise the precision.
I slowly try to draw the liner along my upper lash line, seemingly successfully. I angle it as closely as I can to draw the outline of the wing, narrowing my eyes to judge how precise it looks.
"What is that?" Mason asks as he perches himself on the bed behind me.
"Eyeliner." I mumble as I try to mirror my previous action on the other eye.
"Why does it have those triangles on the end?" he furrows his brow, tilting his head slightly in confusion.
"Triangles, really?" I raise my eyebrow at him in the mirror.
"I need to concentrate to get these even, stop distracting me." I whine as I continue.
"It kind of makes you look like that woman I learned about in college. The divine one." he mumbles in the background, scratching his head and narrowing his eyes to get a better look.
"A divine woman from college? Seriously?" I sigh, turning my head to look at him properly.
"Yeah, like.. what's her name? Queen of Egypt." he looks deep in thought and I groan, turning back around for what feels like the twentieth time in the past five minutes to do my makeup.
"Cleo! Cleo... Cleo.. fuck! What was her name?!" he yells from behind me.
"Mason!" I whine as my hand slips, jerking from Mason's abrupt revelation.
"Sorry." he fakes a pout and I take a deep breath in, using a wipe to fix my mistake and eventually managing to make them as even as I'm going to get them.
"Cleopatra. That's who you're thinking of. She was Queen of the Ptolemaic kingdom of Egypt." I shake my head.
"Oh, yeah her." he shrugs and I laugh.
I put on some mascara and concealer, a little lip gloss, standing up to get my flat iron.
"You look so hot in my shirt." Mason says playfully, leaning back on the bed, propping himself up with his elbow, looking at me.
"Stop." I mumble, knowing I'm going to blush if he continues.
I sit back onto the stool, plugging in my flat iron and begin to straighten my frizzy hair. After around twenty minutes I'm almost finished, and Mason is still sitting on the bed watching me.
"Are those hard to use?" he asks as he watches me intently.
"Not really." I shrug.
"Can I try?" he asks shyly and I turn to face him.
"You want to straighten your hair?" I gape in disbelief.
"No, god no." he chuckles.
"I want to straighten yours." he rolls his eyes and my heart warms slightly.
"It's really satisfying to watch." he defends and I motion for him to come over.
He stands up and walks towards me, standing in front of me, taking it from my hands.
"Okay, you take a small section of hair and just run these down it—with the hair in between these two parts." I tell him, pointing as I speak and he nods, still unsure.
"Just.. don't burn me." I laugh and he glares at me.
I watch as he takes one of the few sections I have left and surprisingly successfully straightens it, after manoeuvring the iron around to get the right position.
"See, it's easy." I encourage him.
"I'll finish it." he says as he plants a small kiss on the top of my hair, making me smile. He's been so caring and affectionate today, it makes my heart swell. I know it wont last, so I'm basking in it as long as possible.
Like he said, he finishes straightening my hair and sits the flat iron on top of the table after unplugging it, pulling me to stand in front of him.
"You look great." he says as he looks me up and down, despite me still being in a shirt. He wraps one of his arms tightly around my waist and brings his hand to my face, cupping my cheek and pulling me upwards towards him—our lips meeting in a typhoon of desire and adoration. His lips are always so inviting, with a hint of strawberry behind them. He walks backwards slowly, until he meets the bed behind him—forcing him to sit down and bringing me onto his lap as I wrap my arms around his neck.
"I need to go." I whisper against his lips reluctantly, sensing the need that emanates from his kiss, pulling me in further with each touch of his lips.
"Not yet." he whines as he continues to draw me in, his lips moving with mine in a syncretized pattern which has only grown to endear me each time we kiss.
Slowly, and reluctantly he pulls away, his arms still secured around my waist, mine still wrapped around his neck as he gazes at me.
"Have fun at dinner." he says sincerely, kissing my forehead quickly. He stands up, forcing me to my feet as he leaves the room. I really do have to get changed and leave for dinner but I found myself wanting to stay with Mason. Screw him and his undeniable hold over me.
I quickly pick out a dress to wear, one that Jess bought me a while ago, since she has an extremely better taste in clothes than me. It's dark blue, strappy and rests just at the middle of my thighs. It has a slight shine to it and I love the way it compliments my eyes, strangely. I shove on my trusty 'heels' which can barely be called heels, they must be one and a half inches at most.
I stand in the floor length mirror, attached to the large closet in the corner of the room, trying to convince myself that I look okay. I always have such low confidence, I just hate voicing it. Just at that Mason re-enters the room with a glass of what looks like orange juice. He sits it on the table at the end of the room and walks towards me with a small smile on his face. He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder—admiring me in the mirror.
"You look fucking perfect, Amara." he tells me, his voice full of honesty and reassurance.
"Thank you." I say with a small smile on my face.
"Hey." he whispers as he turns me to face him, his eyes boring into me with sheer desire.
"You know how attractive you are to me, right?" he asks, reading me like a book.
"Yes." I answer half honestly. I know he finds me attractive, I just find it hard to believe sometimes.
"You look beautiful." he says lowly, nervously.
It made it all the more meaningful that he referred to me as 'beautiful' and not 'hot' or 'sexy'. As much as I adore hearing him call me those things, it's like music to my ears - although, it's nice to know he sees me as beautiful too, if that makes any sense. I also know this is extremely new to Mason, and he struggles to find the right words. It makes it ten times more powerful.
"Thank you, Mason." I say with a genuine smile growing on my face.
"Carol is ready and waiting through there, she said she has her going out bag?" he says confusedly, scratching his head.
"It's this particular bag she takes when she's going out, usually only to special places but it's so beautiful. It probably cost more than both of our phones, and all our luggage combined." I chuckle and Mason's eyes widen.
"I always joke about stealing it from her, it's so pretty. I think I'm in love with it." I sigh and watch Mason roll his eyes.
"Ouch." he says mockingly, grabbing his chest sarcastically pretending to be wounded.
"Shut up." I groan as I exit the room.
I walk into the living room to see Carol sitting perched on the chair, makeup done and looking amazing.
"Damn, Carol. I hope I look as good as you when I'm six months pregnant." I tease and she winks at me.
"Almost seven months." she corrects me and laughs.
I turn around to see Mason standing with his eyes basically popping out of his skull.
"Oh, shut up. It was hypothetical." I roll my eyes and he exhales. Part of me is embarrassed at how that came across, but I was only joking.
"We better get going before we wither away from malnutrition." Carol jokes as she stands up. Steve rushes over to help her, balancing her as she steadies herself. I smile at the two of them, they're still so in love after so long, and they adore each other, I love seeing it.
"See you later." Mason chirps as he pecks my lips.
I'm so surprised by his gesture that I don't even kiss him back. I look at him and he seems just as surprised as me. Kissing me in front of my family? What has gotten into him today? I'm certainly not complaining, it made my heart flutter.
"See you." I smile as we walk to the car, leaving Mason with Steve, my mom, and Izzy. Have fun, Mason.
"Do you want me to drive?" I ask.
"No, it's alright sweetheart." Carol smiles as she climbs into the drivers seat.
"Do you want to go to our usual spot?" she asks and I feel my stomach drop a little.
Shit.
"I kind of... have some problems, shall we say, with a waitress there now." I say awkwardly and Carol bursts into a fit of laughter.
"How the hell, Mar?" she chuckles.
"She was all over Mason, touching his shoulder flirting with him right in front of me—plus the fact she was so rude. So, I had a word with her," I scrunch up my nose, "A little threat here and there, maybe."
"Stop, I'm going to pee my pants! My pregnant lady bladder can't handle this." Carol stutters through her laughter and I join her.
"New place then, yes?" she asks, wiping her tears of laughter and I nod.
"I was really craving some of their ribs." she jokes.
"I'll go back after you're home." she says, rolling her eyes sarcastically.
"No, you know what? Let's just go. I can be mature." I take a deep breath in as I speak, flattening out my dress.
"Are you trying to convince me.. or yourself?" she sniggers and I glare at her.
"A bit of both." I laugh.
The rest of the drive we spend listening to music, older music, we both love 70's, 80's and 90's songs—nobody else in the family does. We pull into the parking lot and I cringe thinking about the blonde with the fluttering eyelashes.
'Crazy bitch', how dare she?
"Really, though. No clawing any eyes out if she's working, okay?" Carol raises her eyebrow with a smirk on her face.
"Deal." I chuckle.
I hold out my pinky and she does the same, locking them together and kissing our hands to seal it, something we've done since I was just a toddler. It's always been our little thing, the highest level of promise.