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Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2016 11:33 am
((Takes place the next morning after 'Take Me Out Tonight"))
It was the persistent ache in her skull, like someone was practically hammering at her skull, that eventually woke Gwen. Laying on her side, she huffed a breath of air in her discomfort. She attempted to nestle herself even further into her pillow as if the softness of the object would help to ease the pain from her excessive drinking the night before. There was absolutely nothing she needed to do that day besides feed Reilly, and since the little sheltie wasn’t pawing at her door yet she was quite happy to let herself drowse back to sleep. After all, there wasn’t much better besides sleeping a hangover away. Sure she could get up and take some painkillers, but that required moving and moving was not something she was interested in doing.
Quickly falling into a half-sleep, Gwen shifted towards the warmth behind her, curling her body to match it unconsciously. With a soft sigh of content, she slowly let herself begin to drift off again. Hands tucked up under her pillow, hair sprawled ever which way. Unfortunately her hangover wasn’t going to let her off so easy with sleeping the day away and a painful twinge reawakened her.
Groaning, she shifted again, legs stretching slightly in the process. It was at that moment, that she realized she wasn’t alone. She didn’t know if it was from realizing the warmth was coming from another body, that she had brushed her legs against another pair, or that she rolled in her movement to see a head of black hair, but she immediately grew still and practically stared at Isaiah who laid next to her. How the hell had she ended up in bed with Isaiah?
Shifting the covers, Gwen realized she was quite naked underneath the blankets and promptly pulled the sheets up. Try as she might she couldn’t remember how any of this transpired, and with her body so close to his she knew for a fact that he was as nude as she was. Oh no, oh, no, no, no.
Panic and anxiety began to settle in. How could she possibly do this?! She wasn’t upset at the fact that she had slept with Isaiah but she was upset that she had obviously let herself loose control and do something that she wasn’t ready for, and… Breathing heavy, Gwen sat up in bed pushing her hair from her face and sheets clutched against her chest. She didn’t know what to say, her eyes fixated on Isaiah. Sure, a part of her was practically purring that she had managed to finally lay with him and jump the hurdle that had been keeping her back, but that was a very, very small part of her at the moment. All she could think about was the fact that she had been so intoxicated that she couldn’t even remember the night!
It was the memories of her ex that really threatened to send Gwen over the edge though. Five years she had kept to herself, kept everyone at bay. She purposely did her best to deter anyone whom she had taken a fancy to and in one night, -one night-, where she let herself go, she wakes next to a man. “Isaiah...I…” What was there to say? She was such a whirlwind of emotions she didn’t know how she felt about this. Happy? Sad? Frustrated? Disappointed? Anxious? Amongst the mental torment she was putting herself through, her eyes began to glisten with the tell-tale sign of unshed tears.
Isaiah woke in the asinine hours of five in the morning to a vibrating text beneath the pillow. Since then, he groaned with the passing of hours as text after text returned to him in a dispute over the shop. While he waited through the responses, Isaiah folded the covers down to his waist, where they curled just slightly toward the foot of the bed. One bent leg alleviated some of the pain and stiffness. Five turned into six, six turned into seven, seven turned into eight before the tossing and turning party next to him finally found wakefulness.
Isaiah looked away from his phone mid-text to find a tousled head of red staring back at him, looking both perplexed and overly stressed at her predicament. I never knew why people bothered to cover their nakedness when I’ve already seen it. Modesty is a little late now, isn’t it? He offered her an easy smile as he locked his phone and slid it back under the pillow for later use.
“You look like you’re about to cry. It can’t have been that bad.” We didn’t even go that far. Or does she get stressed at any kind of intimacy? Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed it. Logic confirmed that it likely damaged their relationship as roommates. He enjoyed their time together, she looked like she enjoyed it, but as he viewed her now, in the cold light of the morning that muted her fiery red hair, she looked like he abused her over the night’s duration.
Isaiah sat up slowly, settling his arms behind him as braces to keep him upright. His own hair fanned out in wild directions, and his makeup looked somewhat disturbed from a night’s sleep, but otherwise he looked still put-together. “Hangover that bad?”
Despite herself she laughed. Laughed at Isaiah’s cool demeanor and her own emotional self all the while tears slowly fell down her face. She was a mess both internally and, she assumed, externally as well. There was little doubt that the black eyeliner she had worn the previous night had lasted through a night of...whatever the hell they had done and sleeping. Had it been bad? Hell if she knew?! She couldn’t remember! The only things that were starting to bubble up between the rhythmic pounding in her head were fragments that reinforced her assumptions of how they spent their night.
“It’s horrible.” She respond between tears as her laughter slowly died down, referring to her hangover. She still clutched the sheet to her chest out of need to feel in control of something. Though modesty was very much overrated at this point, she felt better for it as she tried to wade through the torrent that was her emotions. After all, trying to get ahold of herself while sitting there naked from the waist down with a man she had very much wanted, well...had, but couldn’t remember having was just...a lot for her at the given moment.
“Isaiah...I...I don’t remember anythi...well..much of anything after leaving the club last night. I…” She stopped, turning her eyes away from him to stare down at the sheets. “Oh god, what did I do?” She wanted comfort and she knew where she wanted to find it but old instincts were resurfacing. She feared retaliation at her need. Her wall of defenses that had been so carefully erected after Matthew were crumbling. Bit by precious bit.
“I swore I’d never do this again.” She murmured quietly. “Not after Matthew...I just…” And that was when the waterworks started for real. A racked sob escaped her as the memories of her ex flooded back to her. She could practically hear him screaming at her, calling her a cheating whore before using her. Calling her horrible names when she knew he had been the one cheating on her. So many horrible suppressed memories, and all she could do was shake her head and cry. “I am so sorry.”
Gwen’s clear discomfort with the whole matter left him worried. Expression carefully schooled into that of neutrality, he tried to avoid further upset. He listened through her stammering, confusing explanations for her emotions, his attention centered on her throughout, and waited for her to finish with a several second buffer before responding to what she had to say. Isaiah could only gather that ‘Matthew’ was someone of still great import to her, if he was the precursor to her swearing to ‘never do this again’. Whether ‘this’ meant sex, or drinking, he wasn’t certain. Whether Matthew damaged her mentally on purpose or died or suffered some other tragic accident, he didn’t know either.
There were, unfortunately, still too many puzzle pieces missing for Isaiah to assemble the whole picture.
“Don’t apologize for having feelings.” He kept his tone conversational to offset the imperative. He sat up, shifted legs to his side of the bed, and slipped out to retrieve his briefs from the floor. As he did so, he spoke over his shoulder. “Let me make you some tea. You can take a minute and get dressed if you like. We’ll sit outside on your balcony.” As he stood, he considered the tea of choice as well as the weather - sunny, it appeared, though on the lower end of the temperature spectrum. He knew to retrieve a couple blankets from the linen closet and prepare some chamomile; any kind of caffeinated tea was out of the question, and chamomile was the first to come to mind.
Departing from the room, Isaiah left the door at a hairline crack to avoid the loud noise of shutting it. He padded into the kitchen then, filled the copper-plated tea kettle with Brita filter water, and set the stove to high. After the flame clicked to life, he retreated to the counter, where he leaned against it with a sigh. It’d be easier to just leave, but then I wouldn’t be any different from Sid. He turned his gaze to the window then, just over the sink, and watched the gentle sway of trees outdoors. Right. Blankets.
By the time he retrieved two suitable blankets for outdoor wear, the kettle whistled loudly. He stole it from the stove with an oven mitt on hand, grabbed two cups from the nearby cupboard, and prepared them to standard with milk and some sugar in Gwen’s cup. What was it sugar helped metabolize? Tryptophan? Something that makes serotonin… The kettle was retired, blankets were bundled under one arm, and the two mugs were clasped into his remaining hand.
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Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2016 11:34 am
She heard Isaiah’s words, and she sniffed back another sob that wanted terribly to escape her. She glanced over at him as the bed creaked slightly with the change of weight before averting her eyes back to the sheets. The mention of tea went acknowledged with a bob of her head, and she waited for him the leave the room.
Once gone, Gwen gathered her legs ups, wrapping her arms around them and placed her head on her knees as she allowed more tears to spill. I feel like such an idiot. He probably hates me right now. After all, from what she could remember of the night, she most certainly was the one who had engaged the whole affair. And, truthfully, deep down, she knew she didn’t regret it. Not in the sense that is was Isaiah. There was no blame there for him, that she was certain of.
Another sniff, and a minute or two later she managed to stop the crying. Her poor head ached even more thanks to the water works and was one of the main factors that prompted her to unravel from the sheets and get out of bed. Glancing around the room it was obvious that they had little care last night where clothes had been strewn. Garments of all sorts littered her bedroom floor. In a need to calm herself she promptly picked up her clothes and piled them by her hamper to be sorted later. Isaiah’s she gathered up and took care to lay on a section of the bed she had smoothed out. She paused a moment, as her fingers gently rubbed the material of his shirt between them. I hope he doesn’t want to leave after this. She half laughed at herself. How can I blame him if he does?
Leaving the items on the bed, Gwen walked to her dresser and pulled out a pair of grey sweat pants and a blue oversized sweater. Not bothering with undergarments she threw them on before finally leaving the safety of her bedroom. She promptly beelined for the bathroom, only pausing a moment to give Reilly a pat on the head. There she did her best to try and make herself look somewhat presentable which consisted of running a hand through her hair, giving up and typing it back in a loose ponytail, and scrubbing off some of the make-up that had smudged on her face. The black eyeliner still tinted her eyes though, emphasising the fact that she had obviously been crying.
By the time she made it to the kitchen Isaiah was standing there waiting for her with tea and blankets. With a tentative smile she walked up to him and relieved him of one of the mugs. “Thanks.” She popped two painkiller into her mouth and tentatively sipped at the hot liquid. Thankfully she didn’t need much to wash down the medication.
Gwen noted the taste of chamomile tea and internally thanked her roommate for the insight. When was the last time a guy, who wasn’t related to her, took the time to try and comfort her? When was the last time I let a guy get close to me? She had her answer with that one thought.
Walking over to the back door, Gwen led the way outside. There were two chairs already set up from previous times the two had enjoyed the outdoor space. The shock of the morning chilled air helped Gwen focus herself some and she placed her tea down on a small table to help Isaiah by grabbing the blankets from him so he could put his own mug down. Divvying up the blankets she flopped herself down into one of the chairs, legs tucked up so she was resting her arms on her knees and the blanket wrapped firmly around her. Her tea, in easy reach, was soon clasped between her hands as she watched Isaiah settle himself. “Thank you.” she said softly.
Now, how to even start to explain herself? Could she do it without breaking down again? That was the big question. As she sat there though, blue eyes shifting to Isaiah, she felt...no, knew that she owed the man some explanation for her ridiculous explosion of emotions. Biting her bottom lip, her gaze shifted back to the tea still clutched between her hands, steam gently rising from it.
“I am sorry how I reacted.” Carefully she lifted her gaze back to her roommate. Her stomach felt like it was balling up into knots at this point. “And, first off...it isn’t about you. My reaction I mean. I just…” She was stuttering over her words and she knew it. It was frustrating and she moved her gaze back to her mug.
“Matthew is my ex and the main reason I’ve been keeping to myself for the past few years.” She shifted in her seat a bit uncomfortably. “It wasn’t a healthy relationship. Not for me anyway. There was always cursing, name calling and…” She paused there for a moment as memories began to flood back again. She closed her eyes against them, a few stray tears leaking out from under her lashes. “He flat out used me. In every sense.” Roughly she lifted a hand to wipe the tears away before opening her eyes again to stare at her mug, as if she was ashamed to even look at Isaiah. “He’s why I’ve been distancing myself from men. I’ve just been too afraid to fall into something like that again.”
With the blankets taken care of, Isaiah chose his seat and wrapped the blanket about himself before pulling knees to chest in the chair. He held his mug with both hands, and balanced it atop knees, where it burned slightly beneath the blanket. “I learned pretty early on that other people’s actions were never about me.” He sipped his tea, finding the chamomile taste reliably boring, and listened to her story.
For a time, he was unsure how to respond. He lacked the personal experience of an abusive relationship to commiserate with her, and he knew not how to reply without downplaying the effects of such usury. He looked out toward the stray clouds dotting the sky instead as he tried to figure a response. It was, as she said, a relationship that affected her adversely for years - she spent much of that time deliberately alone in response to the actions taken and words said in that relationship. She marooned herself from personal connections to avoid a reoccurrence of such behaviors. Isolation for protection was unhealthy, he knew, but pointing that out while she was emotionally compromised may only remind her of events with Matthew.
Isaiah felt jittery. For once, he was grateful he didn’t serve himself with black tea - anxiety fed off its caffeine. “I’ve never been in a relationship where I was abused or where I abused others, but I imagine that…” He paused, looking for words. “Finding yourself abused or betrayed by someone you’re supposed to trust deeply leaves a lot of indelible damage. Not indelible in the sense of permanence, but more like… Ah, how long it takes Sharpie to fade from your skin when you’ve drawn on yourself. While it won’t be there forever, it’s a long process for removal.
“And while I haven’t been in that position, I’ve been in one where I sequestered myself from the help of others. I thought that I could overcome my demons without any help, or that I would be patronized for needing it - or for the reason I needed it. But, what I learned is, seeking help isn’t shameful for one, and that damages recover a whole lot more quickly with other people assisting. What I’m trying to say is that retreating for others for years may not be the best decision for recovery. My guess is it was a necessary decision. Mine was, too. That doesn’t make it wrong. But, you’ve already made a decision to start on the recovery process by speaking of it. s**t,” he smiled faintly, “I’m rambling.” He shook his head gently.
“I’m glad you chose to tell me about what was happening, and I’m sorry you went through any of it.” It felt trite to say so, but the bravery she exhibited in voicing these experiences needed acknowledgement.
Gwen glanced over at Isaiah and returned his faint smile with one of her own. “Hearing someone else’s voice, even if it’s just rambling, is better than silence right now.” But, she stopped to sit and think about what was said. Interesting enough she found the sharpie reference oddly accurate, but instead of working to erase the mark, she’d been letting it fade on its own which was a long process. Putting effort forward to fix the problem would be better but it required letting others in and after so long of pushing people away it was a scary hurdle to leap.
“You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this.” Her thumb idly and repeatedly brushed again the rim of her mug as she focused back on Isaiah. “I mean, after…that, in there.” She waved halfheartedly in the direction of her bedroom. “I think you needed to know? I wanted you to know.” A passing cardinal caught her attention, drawing her gaze to a small delicate tree it perched in. “I...I don’t regret last night.” She muttered softly, eyes not leaving the small red blip that was the cardinal. “I think I am more angry at myself with how it happened and the fact that...I can’t remember it. I wish I did. There’s something about you that piqued my interest enough to want to do what I did. Seriously, I think you’re the first man to stir any sort of lust in me since...well, since when I first met Matthew. In a way that terribly frightens me, but it’s also exciting?” She laughed wryly. “Now I am the one who is rambling.” Leaning back a bit in her chair, she pulled her legs a bit closer to her as she adjusted her blanket to wrap around her chilling feet more protectively.
“I hope that I haven’t scared you into wanting to move out or anything. I’d much prefer if you didn’t.” She said matter-of-factly as she locked eyes with him. In a way, this was her attempt of reaching out. Of seeking that help that she knew she so desperately needed but was afraid to ask outright. Of course she had friends in NYC would would be happy to come down for awhile if she needed them to but, their help wasn’t what she needed. She didn’t need her girl friends here. She didn’t want someone who knew the intimate details of what had occurred with her ex. She wanted someone who was new to her, open and well...exciting. She wasn’t naive enough to think that this battle was going to be easy. ********. It was going to be anything but. Still, to have someone help her scrub away at that black mark on her and be non-judgemental...she needed that.
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Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2016 11:35 am
”You don’t regret it, but you don’t remember what happened,” he teased with a grin. “We could’ve done something six shades of awful in there. What if you took a golden shower?”
Isaiah shrugged. “Maybe you’ve gotten tired of holding back from everyone. Trying to fix everything yourself is a hard burden to bear. And while opening up to someone sounds a thousand times harder, I can tell you it’s not. Trust takes a lot of energy. On the other hand, keeping to yourself is a whole lot more work.” Listening to Gwen reminded him of his first sponsor, and the tirade of vitriolic emotions he withstood in Isaiah’s beginnings of getting clean. He scathed and roiled and spat at the man with all the rage and sorrow he pent up, and yet the whole of the experience felt so freeing that he wound up weeping far harder than Gwen managed in the bedroom.
They each held dire experiences, and suffered from them in different ways. Perhaps taking her to an NA meeting wasn’t a bad idea. Never had he visited one in the DC area; he wasn’t certain one existed out here, with the bloodshed and constant violence. Still, she may benefit from the openness of the individuals there, expressing their worst transgressions in front of an audience of strangers.
Her comment about moving out roused a quiet smile. “No,” he replied, two fingers pressed to his left temple. “I’m not going to up and leave. If I was planning on that, I would’ve already done it. Trust me, I’ve been through worse than this.” Reaching out, Isaiah grasped her hand and gave it a vigorous rub. “I don’t know if you remember, but when Sid mentioned her ‘assholery’ last night, she was talking about when she left me out of the blue in New York. I just came home one day, and everything was gone. Right along with her. That… Isn’t something I want to relive, whether the perpetrator or the victim.” “Considering I am still here and lacking any substantial bruising besides the obvious.” She eyed him. “I’d have to say whatever we did I could live with it.” She paused. “I...I didn’t take a golden shower right?” She was pretty damn sure she hadn’t and if she had, well, hopefully it was enjoyable. But the lack of dampness in her hair pretty much confirmed that she hadn’t had a shower sometime in the middle of the night and she was certain there was no way she’d have gone to bed, drunk or not, without washing up after something like that.
Getting back on topic Gwen nodded. “It’s a terrible amount of work, but sadly has become almost habitual at this point for me. I was only 20 when I finally managed to completely break it off from Matthew for good. So five years I’ve been playing the loner game. God...five years.” She huffed a breath of air and shook her head. “Five years I won’t get back. I mean, I can’t say they were bad years. Just lonely.”
Feeling a small cramp building up in her calf, Gwen unfurled herself and stretched her legs out. The blanket fell from her shoulders, revealing the oversized sweater which had dropped off one shoulder. Toes peeked from the bottom of the blanket and she hastily pulled them back in as goosebumps formed on her skin. One thing was for certain, if her feet got cold, she was certain to feel cold all over and only a hot shower or bath would be able to suffice in warming her up.
With Isaiah’s confirmation that he’d stay and the firm grasp of her hand, which she responded to with a squeeze and a smile, some of the tension which had been building up in Gwen’s shoulders and back eased some. She was surprised though to hear his revelation about Sidney. The amount of attention she remembered the other girl giving Isaiah last night certainly didn’t seem to be coming from someone who had run from him in such an absolute fashion. With a frown, Gwen rubbed the back of Isaiah hand, which she still clutched, with her thumb. “I am sorry. I don’t think anyone deserves to be left like that. Hell, I didn’t even do that to Matthew and if anyone did deserve it, it was him.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between you and Sidney?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying and quickly she tried to backpedal. “I don’t mean to pry or anything and really, you don’t have to tell me.” She flinched a bit at her own flounderings. “I am sorry. That was...rude. I shouldn’t have asked.””The most you can do with that five years now is move forward with what you learned from it.” Isaiah curled further into the blanket himself; the wind nipped at what bare skin it could find and left him nearing the point of numbness in his extremities. Drawing his hand back, he wrapped fists in the fabric. He pulled the blanket taut over himself. “If it’s worth anything, I think you came out of it pretty well.”
Isaiah breathed a long sigh through his nose as he looked toward the surrounding foliage. A wall of bougainvillea played host to a small cluster of Canadian birds. At least she isn’t interrogating me like Rob. Then again, she’s not exactly outside the realm of bias here. “No, it’s alright. I think you’re smart enough to know that what I did in the past was left in the past. That will make more sense in a minute.” He sat up then, and asked himself how he wanted to tell the story. The version given to Mont Blonc was done in a beleaguered state, when he summarized what he could and found that exhaustion tempered the rest. The version given to Rob had come at an early time, when he lacked time to mentally steel himself against old wounds.
Here, he was in better condition to tell the story, and yet wondered if he could explain the matter in an impacting way.
“Sid and I had a handful of years between us. At the time I met her…” He paused and drew breath through teeth. “I was doing drugs. Our attraction was our addictive personalities, and our idea of a night out was our shared appreciation for parties. And… There’s a certain aspect to narcotics that I don’t think anyone understands if they’ve never really experienced them. I mean really experienced them. I mean ‘lying on the ground for hours while you’re in a daze of heroin high’ experienced them. They don’t let go, not ever. No one is strong enough to pry their grip off you. And when you’re young, and stupid, and weak-willed like I was, they pull you in.
“So, in a way, our relationship got worse.” He paused then to take a sip of tea. He kept the cup steady beneath his chin, savoring the warmth of steam that reached his nose and chased away the cold. “But it also got better. We were both crafty, so we always had a way or two figured out for how to feed our habits. That, too, was a bonding experience. Every time we slammed rock-bottom into withdrawal, we would fight, but every time we scored again, we’d make up from it and get even closer. Sad as it was, I remember proposing to her when she brought me a teener after a week of striking. I was…” He paused, smiling wretchedly. Hands splayed out before him as he watched them, each finger steady. “I was shaking so badly that I skin popped the first hit. Anyway.” Fingers curled around the cup again, where his thumbs had kept it carefully hoisted with the help of the handle.
“We went through this yo-yo bullshit of easy scores and striking out until we hit a dry spell long enough that I went through some pretty bad withdrawal. And trust me, that withdrawal wasn’t pretty. The leg cramps were so bad I couldn’t stand up, and I hadn’t taken a s**t in that entire week. There’s a reason I’m so familiar with enemas and suppositories, and it’s not because I’ve slept with men before. But, when Sid brought back a good score, I OD’d without even knowing it - you lose tolerance pretty quick - and put myself in the hospital. Even died on the table. Heart stopped and everything. After that, I had to get clean. I didn’t want to leave Sid alone, and I didn’t want that to be my life or my legacy.
“We both tried it, and found out we’re two different people when we’re sober. She got really paranoid, I think, or I changed too much and I bored her then, or I reacted badly to her because I thought she was batshit half the time. It was just… Two people who weren’t made to coexist after that. Too many fights. Sid got back into drugs. I couldn’t stand our friends or our lifestyle anymore. Then one day, I came home from work and found no sign of her anymore.
“I remember asking myself if it would’ve been worse if she emptied the house. But, I think the way she left- taking only what she needed - hit a lot more sore spots than if she would’ve taken everything. If she left the place empty, I could’ve hated her as a shallow b***h. But, I think she left nearly everything because she still cared about me.” His voice tensed, then. “It was one of the hardest experiences of my life.” Closing his eyes, he loosed a slow breath.
Isaiah recovered with a practiced grip on himself. “So, that’s more or less the story of our lives together. It’d been about a year before I found her again here, and enough had happened in that time to make her reappearance a whole lot easier to take.” The story that unfolded from Isaiah’s lips was not something Gwen had expected. The man in front of her seemed to have his life in fairly decent order for the most part, but his past sounded like anything but. Maybe that was the compromise for himself to deal with what he had done and gone through. But, like Isaiah had surmised, Gwen was able to listen to the story without any sort of judgement because who was she to do that? Everyone had their own skeletons hiding in the closet, some were just more numerous than others.
She listened carefully to him, at one point, when he mentioned that he had actually died, Gwen reached out to his shoulder and gently rubbed it. God, it was all so scary. She’d never really dealt with anyone who had been doing or had done drugs, but the thought of someone ODing on them was just frightening and heartbreaking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what all of that was like but the fact that you managed to overcome something so enticing and consuming is just incredible to me. I don’t know if I would have had the willpower. Plus to have things practically falling apart with Sidney and her leave you…” she shook her head. “I am just glad that everything came together for you in the end. I am even more grateful that you didn’t end up dieing on that table.” She smiled. “I would have never met you then.”
Sliding out of her Chair, Gwen walked around Isaiah and wrapped her arms around his shoulder from behind with her head leaning into his as she bent over to him. “And where would I be right now if I hadn’t? Still living alone and friendless.”
A cold breeze filtered into the balcony, and goosebumps once again rose on Gwen’s skin. Despite the sun it was still a cold February day, and Gwen had reached her threshold for it. With her arms still wrapped around Isaiah she turned her head slightly, her breath now brushing at his locks of hair and ear. “How about we go inside? I am cold and you’re hardly dressed to be sitting out here, blanket or not. We can warm up inside.” With a last gentle squeeze, Gwen finally release him as she dragged her arms and hands across his shoulder as she moved to retrieve her discarded blanket and tea. With the blanket and tea now in her possession she walked over to the door and opened it waiting for Isaiah to join her before closing it behind them.
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