Heirs of the Gods

Ch 65: More than enough

As all bad drinkers did the morning after, upon waking up with a nauseous stomach and a throat drier than the desert, Ella swore it was the last time she'd ever drink.

This promise usually lasted until she had a hot bath and consumed enough tea and toast to forget, of course.

Grumbling under her breath, she rubbed a fist on her bleary eyes and cracked them open into tiny slits. It was enough to notice her sight was obscured by a dark mop of hair. She pulled back just enough to take in her surroundings.

Limbs twined, they curled around each other like vines. Aedion's arms banded around her torso, one of his hands had snuck beneath her jumper, where it pressed along the small of her back. His face was tucked into her neck, where his nose had made a home at the crook of her shoulder.

For all intents and purposes, he was using her like a giant pillow. The realisation was enough for a smile work itself across her cheeks.

Over the time she'd known him, she'd learned Aedion was peculiarly tactile.

Despite his size and demeanour, he was unbelievably affectionate. Leaning against Blaise as they spoke, resting his chin on Val's head, slinging an arm around their shoulders or ruffling their hair. Lately, he's taken to laying his head on Ella's lap, and she'd learned he liked having his hair played with, which delighted her to no ends. He was a well of never-ending curiosities, and each piece she discovered managed to pull her in even more.

She lay there, wrapped in his warmth and listening to his deep, steady breaths. Tentatively, she snuck a hand into his hair, where she played with the soft strands. Aedion sighed against her and mumbled something unintelligible, letting out a contented puff against the crook of her neck. With a soft smile, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be lulled back to sleep by the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

Ella wasn't sure how much time passed before her eyes snapped open again, this time urged by the pressing need to use the lavatory. Cursing the many drinks she'd had, she wriggled out of Aedion's hold, her thighs sandwiched between his heavy legs. It was then that she noticed they were completely bare.

She sat upright, effectively waking up Aedion with a jostle.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, massaging her forehead.

Aedion looked at her blearily, hair sticking up wildly, rubbing his eyes. "Stop shrieking, my head is killing me," he groused.

The night's events came back to her by trickles. By all accounts, Ella had thrown herself at him like a madwoman and confessed all sorts of improper things. She'd couldn't--wouldn't--blame the alcohol, because she'd done it all herself. There was no excuse, she'd simply been too caught up in the moment to care enough to shield herself.

"I'm naked," she whispered, not knowing if she'd meant physically or emotionally.

Aedion looked at her and raised a brow, having the nerve to look amused. "First of all, you are not naked. Not by a long shot, unfortunately."

She looked down at her bare knees. The knit jumper stopped midthigh, just about covering the loose pants Aedion had lent her. Memories of how he'd all but shoved her into the clothes swarmed her, eliciting a small smile.

"Second of all," he rubbed a tired fist over his eyes, before reaching over and mercifully pulling the drapes shut, blocking out the sun. "Do you not remember last night?" His voice had taken on an apprehensive tone.

"Of course, I remember," she groused, pursing her lips in discontent. "I told you, I wasn't drunk. I know how to hold my liquor," she sniffed pointedly, watching as Aedion rubbed his forehead and winced. "Unlike you, it seems."