The Search for Lily Myers ✓

35 | Champagne Problems

Ah yes, the sound of death.

Amelia's alarm was going off—no, Henry's alarm was going off. Her eyes flew open as his phone suddenly started chiming louder than she knew a phone even could ring, and he must have accidentally fallen asleep with it laying next to him on the mattress because she could feel the vibration of it too.

He scrambled to turn it off, and the silence that followed once he did was blissful to her ears in comparison. But as she rolled over onto her side and watched him grab his glasses and hearing aids off of the nightstand, it dawned on her that both the volume level and leaving it in the bed with him must have been intentional. What had seemed like an excessive amount of noise to her ears would just be a basic necessity to get him awake when he didn't have his hearing aids in.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he rolled over to look at her. "I should have remembered to just ask you to wake me up."

She reached over to gently touch his cheek with her hand, to feel the soft warmth of his skin after sleep. "It's okay," she murmured. "Do you have to go somewhere?"

Regretfully, he nodded. "Past me made an appointment to get my car serviced this morning."

"Fun."

"I could cancel."

"You shouldn't cancel just because I want to cuddle with you. I also want a mimosa and a trip to the beach, but here we are."

He cracked a smile. "Nothing's stopping you from actually getting that mimosa, you know. Nat doesn't seem like she'd be a hard person to convince to go to brunch with you."

The thought was rather tempting, but not quite enough to abate the desire to stay there with Henry; to watch the way the light of the morning sun trickled like honey through the gap between the curtains and washed over his skin with its smooth hue; to listen to the slight rasp in his voice as it warmed itself up for the day.

"Stay with me for five more minutes."

The blankets shifted around Amelia's legs as he drew her back to him, curving into the crook of her neck to press a kiss onto her skin. "You're hard to say no to."

Sinking into him, closing her eyes as his lips touched her again, was effortless. Everything that wasn't Henry faded to the edges of her consciousness as if she'd slipped into sleep once again. But this was even better than a dream—it was real. Every single kiss that he trailed from her collarbone up to her cheek was real.

An elated sigh fell off of her lips. "I love you."

She could feel him start to smile against her cheek. "I love you, too."

Gingerly, he tucked the messy strands of hair away from her face so that he could see her better. "Are you going to be okay today?" he asked softly.

Amelia felt...a little emotionally hungover. She was too tired to feel actively anxious, but she could feel the effects of the previous night's stress on her body. There was a dull ache in the back of her head; the area around her eyes still felt puffy. She didn't really have the mental capacity to think much further than the immediate moment with him, but she still felt infinitely better than she had the night before.

"I'll be fine."

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything, okay?"

"I will."

After another minute, Henry had to sit up, but he didn't depart before leaning back down to give her the gentlest of kisses on her forehead, the tip of her nose, her mouth.

"I love you," he whispered again after the last one. "Don't forget it."

"And I love you." She traced her thumb along his lips, dedicating his shape to her memory so that she could always remember this. "I promise I won't be forgetting that anytime soon."