14. Sunday Morning

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Blythe

When I awoke, I realized that I was in Dean's arms. Cuddling. That's what we were doing and somehow the warmth made me not want to open my eyes but something in me just made me open my eyes and observe him for a while. His eyes are shut which made me see the long, thick lashes he had.

Seriously, how can most guys be blessed with these lashes when I can't even have that?

Shifting, he faces towards me, still asleep. His nose flare lightly and his lips part as he breathes. Those lips of his, now that I'm up close, are more pinkish than my pale ones. His thick brows are relaxed, slightly rising in synchronized with his chest. The way his jaw is defined, I wonder if everything is defined.

What the hell? Did I just literally wonder and imagine about my best friend's body? Oh my God. I think I'm losing my mind. I probably am. I can't think of him like this.

You're a blessing to him. He worships the ground you walk on. The way she said it has been stuck in my head up to now. I've known Jessica for a long time, and I know that whatever she'd say, she's telling the truth. From all the things they've said to me, is any of it true? Does Dean really like me much more than a friend? If he did, will I be able to see him like how he sees me?

His brown hair is messy with its strands falling down to his face. I can't help but smile, thinking about how he really needs a haircut. Though, I've got to admit, his hair long or short, he definitely still look incredibly handsome.

Okay, time to get up before I start thinking other inappropriate things about him. God knows that it's already too weird for me.

I entangle his arm around my waist and place it down the bed. I was already sitting and ready to get up when I hear him shift again. When I turn to face him, I see his emerald eyes looking at his surroundings, blinking for a while, probably wondering what he's doing in the guest room.

"What time is it?" His eyes still on the ceiling. "Did we fell asleep together?"

I shrug and stand. "Seems like it. I think I fell asleep before the movie ended. How about you?"

"I knew you were a light sleeper so I didn't want to move since you might wake up," he yawns. "I was just going to wait ten minutes just to be sure but then, I fell asleep. Did you sleep okay though? You woke up before me."

It's just been four days since Nathan passed and my dreams for the consecutive duration of those days were filled of him. If it's not seeing him in a casket, it's seeing him as my alive, happy brother. I haven't woken up screaming or shuffling in my sleep, but that doesn't mean that the sadness and pain isn't there.

It so cliché to even talk about it but last night, when he held me in my arms, the pain was still there but... less. Like I've been given morphine to ease the pain that was growing inside of me. I still did wake up with such sadness though it felt different. Better. And waking up in his arms made the morning brighter. It felt like I didn't have to be guilty about being able to live through another day.

It felt like I belonged there. In his arms.

Maybe that's why I'm seeing him in a new light.

"Yeah, slept nice," I walk to the bathroom but stop in my tracks to face him. "Why are you still here? Get back to your room before your mom, dad, brother, or your brother's girlfriend sees you're here and think that we're together."

His brows knits at me. "We used to have sleepovers all the time when you're in my house. What's different than those other times?"

The difference is that you're screwing up my head. Your family is to blame for that too. They never should've said something about it. How are we even going to live with one another if this is already awkward to me?

Calm down, Blythe. Maybe Jessica's just getting inside your head. She's probably playing matchmaker. It doesn't have to change anything if you don't let it.

Okay, speaking to myself in my head in the third person doesn't really uncomplicate the idea that I might be bonkers.

With a huge exhale, I point to the door. "Get out, will you? I'm going to shower and you know how I feel about you being here. I need privacy."

He holds out his hand. "Pull me up."

Rolling my eyes, I walk over to him and hold his much bigger hand and start to pull him up. Look, I'm strong and I can handle myself pretty well but when it comes to pulling a person who has a position of fullback in football and is about five inches taller than me, that's where my disadvantage is at.

And he definitely knows it from the way he pulls me towards him, making me land at his chest.

I land down with an 'oof' coming out of me, his hands on my waist, holding me in place. He starts to laugh his ass off and I hit him in the chest. "You dork!"

That doesn't stop the laughter bubbling out of his chest. Somehow, seeing him like this, made me grin from ear to ear no matter how much I tried to bite my lip to stop myself from chuckling too.

"Come on, you got to admit that it was funny," he replies, his laugh dying down slowly as he stares up at me.

It's when I realize that the tip of our noses is touching. That's how close we are right now.

My heart is going crazy, like a hammer going down on a nail without stopping. It's distracting, not as much the way his emerald eyes are shining right now. The way his breath is fanning my cheek is making the hair at the back of my neck stand, and the way his hands are on my waist is making me hitch my breath.

If we continue to be like this, I might do something I'll regret.

"Hey, Dean! Mom wants you to—" I jump away from him, pulling down my shirt that's obviously scrunched up and face Jamie, who's staring at us with wide eyes. "Woah. Okay, I definitely should have knocked. I just thought that since he's not at his room, he's here, and since he's here... you know what, I'm going to stop babbling and I'm just going to go. Give you guys some privacy."

"No, no," Dean pushes himself off the bed and walks to his brother. "I'm going. Bly's going to take a shower anyway."

Yup. A long shower.

Without facing me, Dean pushes his brother off and takes the door knob. "See you downstairs for breakfast, Bly."

Just like that, he shuts the door.

Okay, the way that felt definitely made everything feel like it's not a regular Sunday morning.

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