Something About Us

Heather took a slow sip of her orange juice, the cool, citrusy liquid a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the room. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes as she looked at Rhys, who was still recovering from his earlier near-spraying incident. "Just sleep, Rhys," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "You know, side by side. Like civilized people."

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Why, Mr. Connor, are you thinking of something naughty right now?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock innocence. Then, leaning forward, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did your mind wander into… less innocent territory?"

Heather couldn't suppress a laugh as Rhys covered his face with both hands, a groan escaping his lips. "Oh my god," he mumbled, his voice muffled.

"I'm kidding," she said, her laughter subsiding. "It's just that these past few nights, I've slept better with you around," she admitted, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. "Sounds cheesy, I know."

Rhys's hands fell to his lap, his head dropping slightly. "Sure," he mumbled, his voice still tinged with embarrassment.

"Come on, finish your meal, then let's go to bed and watch a movie or something," Heather said, her voice brightening.

After dinner, they retreated to the bedroom. Heather turned on the TV, scrolling through the channels until she found a movie channel playing a lighthearted romantic comedy. They settled onto the bed, pulling the blankets around them.

Halfway through the movie, Heather's eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep, her head resting against Rhys's shoulder. He gently covered her with a blanket, a tender smile playing on his lips, and continued to watch her sleep until he, too, succumbed to slumber.

When Heather woke up the next morning, the space beside her was empty. A folded note lay on the bedside table. She picked it up, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. Gone to work early. Breakfast is in the dining room.

True to his word, when she went to the dining room, a plate of warm pancakes and a glass of orange juice were waiting for her. She sat down, savoring the delicious breakfast, a warm feeling spreading through her chest.

In the afternoon, her aunt, uncle, and baby Dave came by for a visit. Heather was delighted to see them, her eyes lighting up as she held her giggling nephew.

"Auntie, when can I come home? I'm starting to get bored here," she asked, her voice laced with a hint of impatience.

"The renovation's almost done," Marjorie replied, exchanging a quick glance with Tony. "Just two to three more weeks, love." She patted Heather's head lovingly.

"Hmmm. Okay," Heather said, her gaze returning to baby Dave.

She spent the rest of the afternoon playing with her nephew, his infectious laughter filling the room. When it was already 10:00 PM, Marjorie decided it was time to go home.

Heather tried to stay awake, waiting for Rhys to return, but as the clock ticked past midnight, and there was still no sign of him, she decided to go to bed. She tossed and turned for another 30-40 minutes before finally drifting off to sleep. Her dreams were restless, filled with shadowy figures and a sense of unease.

Rhys came home the next morning, the first rays of sunlight peeking through the hotel window. He carried a bag of take-away food from a fast-food chain he had passed on his way back to the hotel. He was surprised to find Heather sitting at the dining table, her gaze fixed on some unseen point in the distance. She didn't even notice his arrival.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, as he gently touched her shoulder.

Heather flinched, her eyes widening, almost losing her balance. Rhys instantly steadied her, his hand lingering on her arm.

"Hmm?" she mumbled, her gaze shifting to him for a fleeting moment before returning to its distant focus. "Yeah..." she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

Rhys's brow furrowed. She looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing her eyes, her movements listless. "Haven't you slept yet?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Heather weakly shook her head. "Oh, actually I was able to sleep for a few minutes... But I kept having nightmares, you see..."

"Let's go to the bedroom so you can sleep. I'll even-" Before Rhys could finish his sentence, Heather's eyes fluttered closed, her head falling against his shoulder. He chuckled softly, a tender smile playing on his lips. He gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed like a precious treasure.

He laid her gently on the mattress, pulling the covers over her. He then removed his shirt and pants, intending to join her, but paused. He suddenly thought about Heather's reaction if she woke up and saw him in his boxers. He sighed, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and pulled a plain white shirt from his bag, slipping it on before lying down beside her.

Feeling the warmth behind her, Heather unconsciously turned towards it, hugging Rhys tightly, even placing her left leg in between his just so she could feel more of his warm body.

Rhys felt her leg almost touch his "lil buddy" and a groan escaped his lips. Dear Lord. Why must she torture me like this. I know she's asleep right now, but still...

He sighed again, his mind racing, trying to think of anything to distract himself. When he felt that it was safe, he hugged Heather back, his touch gentle, and finally drifted off to sleep.

They both woke up around 3 in the afternoon. Heather was the 'first' to wake up. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was sprawled across Rhys, her cheek pressed against his chest. Oh my god. How did I end up sleeping on top of him? What am I, a baby?

She tried to get up slowly, careful not to wake him, but the arm holding her in place tightened. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that they were at the edge of the bed. One wrong move, and they'd both tumble to the floor. Heather understood then why his arm tightened around her when she moved. He thought she was going to fall. Does that mean he's already awake?

She lifted her head and looked at Rhys. His eyes were still closed. He's not pretending to still be asleep, is he? Heather tried again to slowly get up, this time successfully extricating herself from his grasp. She slipped out of bed, her movements silent, and headed to the bathroom, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else, something she couldn't quite define.