The Detective and Her Bachelor

Chapter 42

Time is a strange thing. A wild entity built of strands that make the woven tapestry of time. One that showcases a full picture of life. It's made of slow blurry moments filled with pain, fast crystal clear moments of joy, stalled sharp narrowed in moments of fear, and every other color and speed under the sun. 

Time will tug at speed, causing certain moments to drag for all eternity, while others are shoved forward like an impatient viewer with a remote, fast forwarding through all the boring parts of a movie. Time is never consistant. It's a strange creature that follows its own desires, a game master of chaos. 

Or, like the Eleventh Doctor in Doctor Who would say, "[Time is] wibbly wobbly timey wimey." 

In short, time had slipped from my grasp, and sunk into the morning without my permission. And suddenly, I was awake again after the time skip, now in a groggy tangle of confusion, covers and... cuddles?

My body and mind were heavy with sleep, the cold that had left me wrapping myself in a blanket burrito was now gone, and in its place... 

I had to blink several time, fingers moving faster than my eyes, reaching out to clutch the solid warm fabric closer. A strong woodsy scent with a hint of earthy sage and lemon filled my nostrils. The familiarity of it was soothing, body racing faster than my brain as it relaxed but my mind couldn't figure out why. 

Wake up faster brain. Help me out here. What am I missing? 

I felt completely slack, muscles loose, breathing easy for the first time in... I couldn't remember how long, having slept deeper and easier than I had in weeks. It was such a rarity that for a moment I just let myself sink into the blankets, soaking in the magic of the early morning before the day could ruin it for me. 

But the sense of peace was cut short as Andrew came into view, asleep next to me on the bed. HIS bed. Arm protectively wrapped around my waist. My hands splayed out across his chest, fingers greedily tugging at his shirt to keep him close. Our legs tangled together.

OH. MY. GOSH. I'm cuddling with Andrew Walker. 

I blinked, trying hard to breathe softly and not squeak out, completely thrown by my own cuddling. I wasn't a cuddler. I wasn't a touchy, feely person at all. I felt betrayed by the asleep version of myself. 

Traitor.

Andrew was still asleep, face relaxed, eyes closed, lashes brushing against his cheeks, hair a mess of beautiful morning tangles. He looked so open, raw, unfiltered. The sight of him looking so utterly peaceful, left me smiling for a selfish moment before I could yank myself back to being practical. 

My mind scrambled back to the night before, and my face burned red at the foggy memory that was blurry at the edges. He had begun to tell me about his past relationships, and I had just... fallen asleep, like some toddler with a bedtime story. I stifled a groan, closing my eyes for a moment, face burning brighter. 

What was I thinking?!? He must have been so annoyed! WAY TO GO DELLE!!!  

But was he? The feeling of his fingers, pressed tenderly against my waist, keeping me close, like I was something precious, was a contradiction to my own conclusions. 

I looked back up at Andrew, irritated and somehow smiling at the same time. I wanted to watch him as the sun began to bleed into the room, sunrise streaks breathing across his skin. 

It made me want to trace the lines of his face, kiss his lips and tug playfully at his hair. All the things I decided that I wouldn't do. I wouldn't kiss him again. I wouldn't selfishly forget that he would be left broken and bleeding when he learned of the secrets I kept. Especially after his gentle words the night before.