Research: Romance

morning

When I awoke, I found myself on the other side of the bed...and completely wrapped around Robin.

Somewhere throughout the night, I had monopolized the bed. Leaving Robin to lay helplessly on the remaining sliver while I clung to him like I was the one about to fall off. My legs intertwined with one of his, my stomach was flush against his back, and if that wasn't bad enough, I had committed the ultimate sleep-over faux pau: I drooled on the pillow a little bit.

To make matters more embarrassing, my arm was also slung over his waist, where my hand had worked its way under his shirt. I had somehow grabbed the material that should have been covering his stomach. I was gripping it so tightly that, when it released my fingers and drew them back, they ached.

So much for not touching. I thought, remembering how my fingers curled just like this when I saw him shirtless in the bathroom. And suddenly I am wide awake with all kinds of emotions crashing through my consciousness.

Oh my god. I mentally cringe, closing my eyes painfully. Now that I've recognized my reactions for what they were, it was hard to ignore the broken record playing in my head. Like a maddening skip, all I can hear is I like Robin. I like Robin. I think I like Robin.

I laid on my back slowly, as not to wake him, and scooted toward the other side of the bed. The minute he felt me leave, Robin stirred a little bit, then unconsciously started to fill up the room given to him.

"I am so sorry." I whispered, trying to give him more space to stretch out. I hadn't really taken my sleeping habits into account when I planned this trip. Namely, the fact that I was a bed hog.

Piling him up on a sliver of bed, while a little funny, didn't make me feel great about my ability to draw firmer boundaries with myself regarding him. However, upon second glance, and to make matters fair, he was a complete cover hog. So, who is to say I wasn't just chasing warmth the whole night?

Tugging some of the cover back to me, I rolled onto my side and tried to go back to sleep. However, before I could close my eyes, I was swiftly met with a heavy arm slinging over me and pulling me onto my back instead. I gaped at Robin, who was glaring at me like I had murdered his first-born child.

"That is mine. I fought hard to have it."

Stuttering isn't in my nature. In fact, silence isn't really either. I always have something to say, and yet, the minute I register the feeling of Robin's hand gripping the blanket resting over my stomach, the warmth coming from his skin, and the brilliant hazel of his eyes as he lay this close to me... I am at a loss for words. I open my mouth, then close it, then open it again to no avail. My eyes search his, but the longer and unceasingly he glares at me, the more I dissolve into every inch of bed he occupies.

Finally, I struggled out, "So you admit you're a cover hog?"

"You are a mercenary." He responds like lightning. Not moving his gaze from mine. "I had to fight to survive."

"Then why was I the one crawling under your skin to get warm this morning?" The surprise was waning, and I could feel my normalcy return. It doesn't take long before I think more about the conversation at hand than his hand pinning me to the bed.

Robin narrowed his eyes. Not in a playful way, more like a "speak one more word and I'll kill you slowly" way. Without warning he moved closer until he was half lying on top of me. I moved aside, pushing him slightly, but any space that was recovered was instantly filled. I gained an inch, and he took up two. Eventually I was half falling off the bed, holding onto his shirt to keep from crashing onto the floor. His hand flew around me, gripping the side of the mattress.