Chapter 8: tea

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Chapter 8: tea

Jolting awake at the sudden increase in volume, I scowl at the large tv in front of me. The end credits were rolling down the fading screen and I was fairly sure I had missed most of that film. With a yawn I sat up in search for the controller and in doing this had managed to unlodge Christian from my shoulder where he had been sleeping. With a wwffffhhhuuummpppfff noise he slid down behind me and continued to sleep peacefully. Locating the controller I turned off the tv and turned around to look at the sofa.

Christian was lying on his side with his left hand under his face, his eyes gently closed and his mouth slightly parted. Remaining on the floor I rested my head upon the seat of the couch and examined his facial features- he was gorgeous. A few stray strands of hair trickled down his forehead and fell over his eyes, with a brush on my hand they were back to their original place. He scrunched his nose and reach out for my hand, mumbling something under his sleep, before latching onto my fingers. His hands were smooth- not soft or scratchy but in the middle.

Suddenly his hand tensed and he sat upright, fingers interlaced, grabbing the blanket that was around his waist he pulled it up to his shoulder before holding his arm out.

He was inviting me.

Gulp.

Pulling me with the hand that was holding mine I soon found my self snuggled close to his side. He was warm and his breathing was soothing although as much as I tried, the small circles he was drawing on my hip were causing air to hiccup in and out of me. As though it's scared to stay in my body for fears being knocked out again.

***

My sleep ladled eyes heavily fluttered open and examined my surrounding. The sun was flooding over the hardwood floor and etching up pristine walls as the curtains hang loosely over the windows. Empty wine glasses sat proud on the coffee table and a thick grey blanket suffocated my body which I happily nuzzled deeper into. One thing that was confusing me was not the lack of Christians presence but the sound of someone whisking.

Not feeling brave enough to investigate the odd sound I pull the cover up to my chin and close my eyes again, in hope to get back to sleep.

It's not working. I can't. I have to find out what he's making.

Standing from the sofa, instantly missing the heat from the warm blanket, I wrap the blanket over my shoulders and trudge through the large house. Walking through the door frame that I hoped led to the kitchen- I was right- I'm met with the sight of Christians bare back. It's toned and I cannot help but want to look away for my staring eyes seam intense.

Clearing my throat I make my way over to the breakfast bar and sit at one of the stools to make my self known to him.
"Oh good morning, Ana" he looked over his shoulder still whisking up some concoction in the bowl on the counter, "sleep well?" He continued to stir the contents.

"Yes thanks" I replied, quietly thanking myself for grabbing the blanket as the cold kitchen tiles were causing me to get goosebumps. "What are you making?" I questioned looking at the surrounding counters for a recipe.

"Pancakes" he turned to face me, smiling like a small child.

"Can I help in any way?" I asked feeling a little useless just sitting here.

"Actually if you could make mugs of tea or coffee that would be great" he pointed to the kettle and the coffee machine and cupboard full of mugs.

"Sure, you want coffee?" I ask him, he looks like a coffee drinker to be honest. Sorta like the type of person who can stand drinking black coffee as well.

"Yes please, the machine is already set up, you just need to put a mug under and press start" his voice was slightly distracted as he rummaged through another cupboard looking for a frying pan.

Boiling the kettle and starting up the coffee, I examine his extensive collection of tea; breakfast tea, earl gray tea, lady grey tea you name it- he has it.

"What's the obsession with tea?" I giggle pointing to the open cupboard  he flips the pancake and meets me gaze before looking at the collection.

"My mother" he chuckles looking down and the pan before continuing, "she has always said that I should never just have one type of tea. She's the only one that drinks half of that stuff to be honest".

"Oh I see. My mum has always said that I should never shake someone's hand if I haven't wiped it on something before" I laughed closing the doors to the cupboard.

"What!" He let out an almighty laugh, "why?".

"Oh I get really sweaty hands" I giggle chucking the teabag into the bin and undoing the milk lid and pouring some of its contents into the mugs.

Sitting down on the bar with Christian I pass him his coffee in exchange for my pancakes.

"Cheers"

"Cheers"

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