I wake up like yesterday, alone in bed. Unlike yesterday, I can hear Cyrus in the room. Rustling about and mumbling to herself.
The fresh sheets wrap around me as I roll over.
Cyrus stands over an open chest, a mess of books and fabrics laying on the floor around her. A shirt is flung over her chest, still undone, giving me a perfect view of her cleavage. And when she turns to the side, the hem of the shirt grazes the bottom of her arse cheeks, making her legs appear even longer than normal and tempting me to jump her.
I watch her stare at the mess, pleasure zipping through me even though she’s actively doing nothing right now.
“What do I have to do to get you back in bed?”
She jumps as I speak, swinging around to face me. Whatever was bothering her before is overtaken by a delicate grin. “You’re awake, good morning.”
“Hmm, good morning, now get back in bed.”
She has the cheek to shake her head at me.
“Did you just say no?” That grin becomes a smirk, whilst I look at her, bewildered.
She picks an item up from the floor, examining it before dropping it again and picking up something else. “I did, and you’re getting out of bed to help me.”
I gasp. “You’ll be dragging me out of bed kicking and screaming.”
She throws whatever scrap of fabric she's holding at me. “You’ll get up willingly, once you realise I’m trying to pack up my shit so I can stay here. But if you really want to stay in bed… I guess I’ll have to leave with the ship.”
She doesn’t even have to finish her sentence before I’m up on my knees, pulling on the shirt she threw at me. Elation pours through me that she isn’t holding off, she’s fully prepared to pack up her life and move to the island with me.To stay with me.
“What are we packing then?"
The grin at my question lights up her face, her eyes glinting. “Everything.”
It’s only when I go to stand, I realise how much of a mess the floor is. “It looks more like making a mess.”
She sighs, throwing her head back between her shoulders as she drops whatever she was holding. And damn, dramatic Cyrus is seriously adorable. Why the hell was she hiding it under that stupid facade? I understand her reasoning for shutting things out, but this attitude right here? It’s a crime to keep it hidden.
“I know it’s a mess. I started pulling things out, but I thought I should prioritise things I actually need; as I only have one chest and didn’t want to leave to find another one. Then one thing led to another and it's a mess.” Her hands wave about as she rattles on.
Hiding my smirk behind my hand, trying desperately to conceal the laugh threatening to bubble out.
She points her finger at me. “Do not laugh, Tally. You love me, which means you now have to helpme.”
Raising my hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. No laughing.” Even though a few giggles still slip free. “How about, I fold up these clothes neatly and pack them. And then you can figure out what other things you want to take.”
She huffs. “But it’s not all going to fit in this.”
This time, I can’t stop the giggle from slipping out. “It’s okay, we can make piles. We still have time before they leave. Once the chest is full, we can take it back to the inn. Then we can come back and immediately load the next lot in. Sound good?”
She crosses over to me, not minding the crumbled clothing on the floor. “That sounds–” Her hands lift to frame my face. “Perfect.”
She presses her lips to mine, nothing rushed or lustful about it. Just pure adoration and love between the soft press of our mouths.
When we part, I start barking out my orders. “Okay, start packing your valuables.” Cyrus struts off, collecting a few random trinkets that are dotted around her room.
I bend down and start on the mass of clothing on the floor. The room isn’t huge but it’s also not small, and every square inch of flooring is covered in fabric. “I didn’t realise you owned so many clothes, dove.” I pick up the first item, a flowing skirt that I could never even picture her in, let alone owning.
She flutters around the room, barely concentrating on the actual task at hand. “To be honest, most of it’s stolen loot. I take what fits me, I usually don’t need it, but you never know when I might need something.”
“Oh so you’re a hoarder.” She casts me a wry look, but I make a mental note to use some of these fabrics to make into clothing she’llactuallywear.
The morning rolls on smoothly, me folding up clothesinto piles and Cyrus deciding which trinkets and personal items she actually wants.
