Penalty Kill

Jake

Being in her apartment feels like being in some type of wonderland. There are pieces of her everywhere, and I'm looking around in awe, doing my best to take in each little thing and commit it to memory. I'm getting my first candid look at her space, which is as unique to her as her fingerprints.

Her living room is overflowing with plants in every size, shape and color. Where there isn't a plant, there's a book, and where there isn't a book there's at least two plants. Everything about the small space is warm and cozy. Plenty of pillows and blankets, warm tones that create an inviting ambiance that I could see myself enjoying on a lazy Sunday with her curled up next to me.

It's as I'm trying to read some of the spines on her books that a cat accosts me, meowing loudly and demanding pets. I'm not one to ignore any cute animal when it wants my attention, and I eagerly bend down to give the cutie scratches in return for loud, satisfied purrs.

I easily could've stayed petting her cat for a good while longer, and it's just as I consider sitting down on the floor and taking up residence next to the tortoiseshell fluff ball that I see Harper walking towards me. Standing up, I meet her sleepy gaze, and she reaches her hand out towards me.

There's no hesitation as I readily wrap my fingers around hers and let myself be led down a hallway through her apartment. We pass a small kitchen, illuminated with the comforting glow of string lights, and as I take in the layout, I imagine us cooking a meal in there together, me using the proximity as an excuse to wrap my arms around her from behind and place kisses on her neck. 

Dispelling my overly active imagination with a few blinks, I focus back on reality. I knew when she asked me to come up that it wasn't to hang out and chat, or to stretch out her evening any later than it already had. Even as she leads me into her bedroom, which is also softly lit with a few strands of string lights and some iridescent lamps, my mind isn't jumping to any conclusions.

Because the look in her tired eyes, the exhaustion tugging at her limbs, the heaviness to her steps, it all adds up to one thing. Sleep. When we come to a stop at the foot of her bed, I can tell she's suddenly getting caught up in her own thoughts again. My hand is still holding hers as she looks between her bed and the floor—as if she's looking for the words to communicate why it is she brought me in here, and what exactly it is she wants to do.

The funny thing is, she doesn't know she doesn't need to say a thing.

Kicking off my slides, I decide to give her brain a break as she's still looking for the words to materialize in the grain of the hardwood boards under feet. Slipping my arms underneath her legs and lower back, I scoop her up in one smooth motion, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head before I lay her down on top of her tufted white comforter.

Laying down beside her, I match her position—curled up on my side with my knees drawn up, so they're just grazing hers. She's got one hand tucked under her head, one laying flat between us. I waste no time wrapping my fingers around hers, bringing the backs of her knuckles to my lips before tucking our intertwined hands against my chest.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I'm about to ask her if she's comfortable. Her eyes are already closed, her chest rising and falling under my jersey as she takes in deep, even breaths. Running my thumb across the back of her hand, I watch as she slowly slips into sleep, her lips parting slightly as her body relaxes fully into the plush softness of her bed.

While I would've loved if she stayed awake for the tiniest bit longer so we could've chatted at least a little, I love laying with her as she feels comfortable enough to fall asleep with me on top of the sheets of her bed even more. Reaching out, I gently tug my hat off her head, tucking a few wild strands of hair back into their place behind her ear.