Turning Page { A Stonefield FanFic }

Breakfast

Emma is still asleep. Her head against my chest, just below my shoulder. Her hair just a bit tangled but still perfect. It's soft and lays upon her neck. Her soft, smooth legs slowly slide between mine. Her hands lay above the covers, cold as snow, but laying still.

The fan spins, making it cold as I wake up. I shiver a little, knowing it won't wake Emma. Gently, I pull the comforter over her shoulder making her as warm as possible. I put my arm under the blanket, and rest it on Emma's back.

I know my arm is still cold when Emma shifts and smiles. "Cold?"I ask.
"Mmmmh" she groans.
"Sorry" I whisper. She still groans quietly.
I wait seconds to peacefully say,
"Good morning"
"Morning" she smiles. "It's cold" she looks at me. Her hazel, green, mixed eyes squint at me while the sun shines in. "It is." I say.

"Do you want another blanket?" I point to the white, folded material. "Um no it's okay." She declines. "But you're not okay." I emphasize on the you're. "But I'm freezing too, and you can't let me get hyperthermia." I lean over to the foot of the bed and grab the blanket. I lightly spread the white, soft blanket under the comforter so that we can feel the fur of its quality.

"Thanks." She laughs.
"See if I weren't here, you would still be cold." I state.
"Probably." She laughs. "But you are here, so."
She smiles and presses her lips against mine.
"And tell me why I can't let you get hyperthermia?"
"Because I love you." I voice.
"Ah that's right, and I can't let you die because I love you too."
"I figured." We both laugh.

Her head sits still on my bare chest. Just like when I woke up, only to know that she is awake. We lay there silently for several minutes. I never thought I'd be in this place with Emma. Especially not her apartment. I always thought that taking my woman back to my place would be more special. But I was wrong. Very wrong.

Her room isn't much of a "girl" room. It's just a desk, a book shelf, a closet, two night stands, walls painted vanilla splash white, and a bed. But I like it. I think of her apartment in a cute way because it's just her living in a 1 bedroom, I bathroom flat, with a small kitchen and a living area. I want to come over everyday now.

We are still calmly laying there motionless. I look over to the left nightstand and read the clock that says 10:06.
"Hey Em," I restfully say.
"Yeah?" She answers very quiet.
"Are you hungry?" I ask.
"Yeah, I'm always hungry, unless I'm full."
We both laugh briefly until I say, "what breakfast do you like?"
"Chocolate chip pancakes." She straight up told me. "Okay, I know how to make those." I chuckle.

"Sorry I haven't had them in along time." She smiles. "It's okay. I like them too." I say. She gets up for me to know that she's wearing my boxers and that shitty collared blue button up shirt that I couldn't get off last night. "Uh Em?"
"Yes?" she turns back to find me still under the covers. "I don't have any clothes." I say.
"So?" She smiles, turns back, and walks away.

I watch her bare feet make its way out of the room. I laugh in despite that I have no shirt nor boxers. I grab what's left which are my tan slacks. Walking out, I already smell the deliciousness of her pancakes that hit the pan.

"Thanks for stealing my clothes." I kiss her.
"My pleasure, anytime." We both giggle as we make the morning food. "Should I just leave a pair of underwear for you, because I can't keep waking up naked with only my pants left." I say. "I guess, I'll just wear them every time you wake up if you don't." She says. "Besides, it's sexy when you leave your shirt off."

"Yeah, why don't you take your shirt off?" I ask politely. "Haha very funny. Just be glad I don't take your pants too." she says. I smirk with laughter. I turn her body so that she's facing me. Pressing my lips against hers, I feel her hand in my messy hair, moving to my neck, and then to my bare back. They're warm now not cold. I smile when our lips move.

Heartfelt and warm, we kept kissing. I wouldn't even call it kissing by now. More like make-out. We pulled away noticing the burnt pancakes. "Oh shit." She mutters.

I smile knowing we have to make another batch. And until today, breakfast is my new favorite meal.