3 A.M.

"Fuck, why are you shaking?" he whispers, barely awake.

"It's cold," I respond. It was colder downstairs and the bed isn't that cold, but I still can't help that i'm not adjusting.

I'm almost certain he's asleep, but instead, I feel the bed dip and a minute later I have something set next to me. A sweatshirt. His sweatshirt.

He mutters something about me being annoying before laying back down. Normally, I wouldn't have taken it, but I'm desperate. I sit up to put it on, realizing that it's already warm. This is the sweatshirt he had on. What if he gets cold now? Too late. I'm not taking this off. Why are all of his clothes so comfortable?

I'm going to make him regret being friends with me because, by the end, I will rob this man of his closet. but it's alright, he's got enough money to not care... hopefully. I'm not usually one to use people's money for my advantage BUT it's different when they have very comfortable clothes.

The sweatshirt is soft, warm, and smells like him. When I lay back down, I have no problem sleeping.

Morning

I can't move. Something heavy is draped over my waist and my back is against something hard. I groan, turning around. Normally the loud buzz of the street below my building or the bright ass sun- seriously why the fuck is the sun so bright- wakes me up in the morning but today it's quiet and dark aside from the heavy breathing that's coming from me. why am i breathing like a man? that's concerning.

my face presses against my pillow but it's hard and warm and slightly uncomfortable. it smells nice though. like spice, woods, and something i don't recognize. it's probably my new detergent. i'm drifting off again when the heavy thing that's draped around my waist snakes up my back and something threads into my hair.

Slightly panicked, I open my eyes and the realization hits me like a truck. This is not my bed, that's Theo's arm around me, and i'm pretty much curled into him. I'm pressed against him in his clothes and his arms are around me and one is tangled in my hair-

How the fuck to you just casually end up here? What did i do to go from deciding not to talk to him to sleeping in his bed? He's so comfortable and warm though... okay, I have to stop. I try to lift his heavy arm off my waist but it doesn't give. When I can see clearer, I realize that you can actually see the outline of his muscle even through his shirt. God help me. I try to turn around again but his arm tightens around me- nearly suffocating me, might I add.

He's much larger than me in size, strength, and height too. I could practically disappear into him. He has the kind of body that compliments his height, defined muscles that strain his shirts, but not too bulky either. He wasn't exactly lanky in high school, but he was also not as defined and when you're pressed against him, you have no choice but to notice.

"Stop moving," he mumbles in his raspy sleepy voice. It makes the places we're touching seem more dirty. Does he know that it's me that he's practically cuddling? OH MY GOD- we're practically cuddling. It's so hot under the blanket that we're sharing and the embarrassment that floods through me makes it feel 10 times hotter.

This is also when I realize that his other large palm is splayed over my hip and part of his hand is on my bare stomach where the hoodie and tank top have ridden up. His rings scratching me lightly against my skin. My real skin. How do I get out of here without him knowing? i have to get out of here before i die of embarrassment. I try to turn around again and this time he lets me.

Everything around me smells like him. It's almost concerning that someone's scent could be engraved into everything so well, but here we are. I suppress a sigh and close my eyes. I don't want to wake him up and I don't want to be awake either. Plus, this is comfy.

The next time I wake up, we're still close but not tangled with each other so sit up.

Normally he looks very serious and tired, but right now he looks absolutely peaceful. His hair is very messy but as always, it suits him just fine. His lips are slightly parted. I feel like a creep, just watching him sleep, but I'm also utterly fascinated. He looks good even when he's unconscious and I know for a fact that I probably look like a mess.

I sit upright against the dark headboard, his silk black sheets still resting around my hips. I turn away from him and look around the dark room, trying to figure out what to do next. My mind is suddenly going through the motions of last night and I can't help but feel the weight of his words from last night against me.

I don't know what about him makes it so hard for me to be normal. However, I do know that I can't keep pushing him away. I don't want to keep pushing him away. I like being around him, I like the way I feel around him, but it's second nature to push away anyone who makes me feel that way.

But I don't want to push him away anymore. I'm going to let the friendship run its course and if I have to shed tears in the end, I hope I'll be able to admit that I did it willingly- knowingly. It's always been hard to trust anyone, I constantly have a guard up. It's part of the stubbornness that follows suit with me.

But Theo's been just as persistent and by now I'm tired of constantly pushing him away, it hurts me more that way. I'll take things step-by-step because I want him in my life. I couldn't tell anyone why other than the fact that he gives me a way to be something other than what idea people have of me.

He sees right through my bullshit and calls me out on it and I like it. I also like the freedom he gives me, the way I can test out who I am without ruining the image he has of me. If I told him I murdered someone, he wouldn't bat an eye but if I told that same thing to someone else, they'd try to fix my mistakes.

In short, I just like that he doesn't treat me like a problem. He listens to my problems without trying to solve them and I like it because he just listens. I've always been treated like broken glass, people are always trying to fix me and when they can't, they throw me away. Whatever I tell them, they try to solve what's wrong with me instead of listening to how it affects me.

I want to prove it to him though. Show him that I really do want him in my life for good and that i'm going to try harder to open myself up to him. I can't promise that i'll be good at it, but I can try.

As quietly as possible, I get off the bed and walk to the bathroom. In the mirror, I look like a mess. My hair is knotted and messy, the mascara I didn't manage to take off last light is smudged, and I'm practically drowning in his clothes. I finger comb my hair and braid it. I wash my face and use my finger to brush my teeth again.

I want to take a shower and I would ask him, but I have no new clothes here. Luckily, I don't have work today. Surprisingly, I had some of the best sleep I've gotten in a while last night. I'm not gonna try to figure out why.

When I'm done, I fix my hair a bit and walk out. Theo's sitting up in bed on his phone. He gives me a lazy once-over. "Morning."

"Good morning," I say. "You can't just say morning."

"Good morning," he corrects, rolling his eyes.

I don't fight my smile. I walk to my side of the bed- even though I clearly had not managed to stay on it. I mimic him and sit against the headboard. Thank god we're both avoiding the topic of how we had wound up last night.

He's on his phone, "Are you hungry?" he asks.

I shrug, "No." That's a lie. My stomach is very empty.

I turn to look at him and when he realizes, he meets my eyes. "You have work today?"

I nod, "No. Thankfully."

"I thought you liked it," he says. He's saying it like we do this often. Like we sit next to each other in his bed and talk about my job.

"I do," I say, playing with the string of his hoodie. It's true but recently, it doesn't feel like it.

"Doesn't it ever get too tiring?" he asks, looking through my bullshit.

"Everything does," I feel his gaze on me but I don't look at him. I want to be in bed all day long and I hate it. My awareness of time has risen so much over the last few months it's annoying. I'm so aware of the time when I'm not doing anything because I feel like I constantly have to be doing something.

His lips tip downward, "You have a habit of overworking yourself."

"Yeah," I sigh.

"You'd know by now," he says. "You spend so much time around it every day that if you didn't like it, you'd know."

I take a minute to let his words sink into me before I smile, "You're good at that."

"At what?" he asks, furrowing his brows.

"Making me realize things," I say turning towards him.

"That's just because you have no common sense," he says with a grin, dimples and all. "And I'm just so much wiser."

"This is when I revoke the compliment," I tell him. It's hard to take anything away from this man when he has a lazy crooked grin and dimples on his face.

"My bad, I meant you have no critical thinking skills," he amends.

I flip him off and he shakes his head. "So rude," he mutters.

"Fuck off," I say with a smile.

He has a small smirk as he stands up. "I'll make you breakfast before I drop you off at your place," he states. "Or you can stay here until I get back from my meeting."

He's looking at me through his mirror and I meet his eyes with conflict. Both offers sound great, but I need to shower and get stuff done at home. "I'd be too bored here without having someone to annoy," I shrug.

He nods, "Then I'll drop you off."

"Can I drive?" I ask with a grin.

He looks at me like I just asked if I could burn down his house, "Absolutely not."

"Pretty please," I say with a slight pout. "I'll do anything."

His eyes shift from playful to something else and one side of his lips quirk up as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip, "Anything?"

I make a face, "You're very dirty-minded."

"You just can't word things right," he maintains.

"Or you're just dirty-minded," I say.

"Bet you like it," he says with a smirk. "Makes you all hot."

My jaw drops and I scoff in disbelief. "Take back everything nice I ever said to you. Get out. Leave."

He still has a smirk, shaking his head softly, "Always running from the truth."

"I'm never being nice to you," I say. "Ever."

He pouts playfully, "Ouch. It's almost like I care."

I flip him off again, grabbing the pillow next to me and chucking it at him. "You're impossible." He catches it. Of course, he does and throws it back at me making it actually hit me. I laugh, and he flips me off.

"I'll make breakfast when I get out," he says.

Hopefully, he can make breakfast as good as his pasta. I'm convinced he's like the world's best chief because everything he's made so far has been amazing. "Do you have a coffee machine?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, grabbing a towel. I watch him prepare for his shower while sitting on his large bed. "Do whatever you want in the kitchen except burn the place down, yeah?"

I nod, "What if I do?"

"Then we'd have proof of both your lack of common sense and critical thinking skills," he answers with a smug look.

"I'm definitely gonna do it," I tell him.

"Whatever you say, Scott," he says, walking into the bathroom.

I stay in the warm bed for a bit before leaving the room and walking down the stairs. The rest of the house is still pretty dark and the lights automatically turn on as I walk around. I walk into the kitchen, trying to find the coffee machine, finding that he has one of those fancy espresso machines that I don't know how to work. I can barely figure out my own simple coffee machine, I'd probably break his if I tried.

I look in fridge, pour myself a glass of orange juice- Theo has some of the best juice selection ever. He has like every kind. I take my glass and sit at the bar, going on my phone. Then I get bored, so I look through place one more time. I find a button that slides up the blinds and watch as light fills the apartment.

Then I sit on his black leather couch. I find a remote and turn on the big fancy T.V. It's actually hard to Imagine Theo ever sitting down to watch T.V. but there was that one time that I got him to watch part of a movie with me.

It's obviously the special T.V.'s that have everything you could imagine on them. I settle on the kids channel, watching some random ass animated show that makes no sense while also making me completely enticed. About 15 minutes pass before Theo walks down the stairs, on the phone. His wavy hair is damp, his face is clean, and he's in a light blue dress shirt and grey slacks.

He's got the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder while he buttons his shirt, leaving the top three undone, revealing the silver chain that's always there. I remember that my hands had been the ones undoing those buttons last night and my face gets hot. I listen to the deep voice of his words as he talks, looking and sounding so sober- nobody could tell that he had been nearly black-out drunk last night.

He turns around to one of the little tables, still on the phone, he takes a watch from the table and puts it on with one hand, his muscles straining the shirt. He has a nice ass. Why am I looking? It's true though, very nice ass. STOP. I will... when he turns around. He doesn't sound very happy on the phone and suddenly, I want to know what it's like being him. Being so busy and important.

He asked me if I was tired this morning, but I wonder how tired he is. He always looks tired. He's also a stubborn ass who probably only works so much out of spite- just to prove that he can. He looks so much more at peace when he's asleep.

I get up from the couch as he's still on the phone this time with the phone in his hand, telling the person on the other end to do something with some file. He sounds so authoritative and commanding. I feel bad for whoever works for him. I bet they all go home crying each night. He walks into the kitchen, so I follow him, hopping onto the island, watching him open a cabinet and easily reach something on the top self- tall ass bitch.

He pours himself some green juice and I wrinkle my nose, his eyes land on me for the first time since he's been downstairs, reading my expression and letting his lips twitch in amusement. He walks up to me, talking to the person on the other end as he brings the rim of the cup to my lips. It actually smells decent, so I tip my head back, letting my eyes stay on his as I take a sip. It's gross. So gross. It tastes like grass. I push the glass away making a face and his eyes look amused.

He settles himself between my legs and the contact sends a flutter to my stomach. His eyes never once leave mine. He brings his free hand to my hair, fixing a few of the strands. He's so close, I have to tilt my head back just to look at him as he stands over me. His warm hand so close to my face- literally the size of my face. He fixes up a few more things and each time his hand touches me, my body melts and I hate the reaction to simple touch.

I decide I don't want to just sit here like an idiot, so I take my hands to his collar and fix his shirt, having to practically reach all the way up to fix his nearly dry hair. And just to be a little tease because I'm an attention whore and I don't like that all of his attention is on the phone call, I set my hands on his chest, toying slightly with the chain before running my fingers down and watching as his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. His hard stomach tenses under my touch.

He catches one of my wrists in a tight grasp, leaning into my ear to whisper, "Don't play games you won't win."

I pout bringing my own lips to his ear and whispering, "Who said I wouldn't win?"

I've always been decent at flirting when I'm doing it for fun. I've never been able to do it well when I need to, but I can do it. And Theo has always been very set on the idea that I can't, but there was once a time when I had to survive by learning how to match other people's vibe, and believe it or not, it's the biggest key factor in flirting.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, letting go of my wrist. His hand drops to my thigh and suddenly I know I'm not winning. I don't know what I'm even losing, but I sure as hell won't win anything against him. His thumb rubs slow circles against my outer thigh. Fuck. Why the hell is my body reacting like this. I should pull away. I should do something.  Instead, I fight the urge to not lean into him.

He smells like soaps, spices, and mint. Along with his usual cologne. He's also big and warm and I just know that he'd give the best hugs. It feels wrong to think about hugs while his thumb is rubbing circles on my thigh while he's standing between them. Luckily there's distance between everything else- even if it's very little distance.

"Smartass," he mutters before pulling away. He drinks his juice and I'm sitting there in complete shock as to what happened to me. It's barely even 9:00 in the morning and this is already happening. Lord help me. I watch him set the glass in the sink. Of course, I'd lose. He drinks those gross juices each morning and can actually stomach them. We'd all fucking lose.

"Shit," he mutters on the phone, turning to look at me with disappointment. I hope it's not over me. I can't even say i'm embarrassed or shocked over what had just happened- at this point, it's just casual.

He runs a hand through his dark hair in frustration as he hangs up. "Change of plans. I'm taking you home and then we'll meet for breakfast, yeah?"

"We don't have to get breakfast," I say, getting off the counter. "You can just drop me off home, but why the change of plans?"

"I have to attend a last-minute meeting for something that went wrong," he answers. Then he stops, looks at me with something that almost looks like uncertainty.

"What?" I ask with a faltering smile. What if he cancels plans to get breakfast? I was actually looking forward to that.

"What are you doing today?" he asks quietly.

"I don't know," I shrug, not knowing why he's asking. "Nothing."

"Stay here," he says. My stomach actually flips. At this rate my doctors gonna kill me for the damage that happens to my body each time I'm with this man. But it's not a bad offer... NO!! Why are you considering this? This is not taking things slow.

I shake my head, "I couldn't, I mean I have to change and shower..."

"Not for the whole day, Scott. Just until I get back from my meeting. You can shower here and when I come back, we'll get breakfast," he's no longer looking at me, fixing something on his watch.

I smile, "I can't." Of course, I can, I'm the loneliest bitch in all of new york. Of course, I could spend my day here, but for the sake of my already scrambled mind, and for the sake of not ruining this for me, I stand strong.

Theo

I hate the change of plans. I wouldn't have minded making breakfast at my place. She's still in my clothes, her hair in a messy braid. We're both in the elevator and she's showing me something on her phone and when I say I don't get why it's funny, she starts a whole explanation for the thing. I'm even more confused by the end.

I realize I made the mistake of bringing her to the lobby because the bitch starts having an entire conversation with the people at the desk after they say hi to her. They all look shocked that she's