Chapter Seventeen Callum #3
She doesn't need to hear empty assurances right now, because it's not okay, and it's not 'just hair'. It's scary for her, and it has affected her enough to want to hide it from me. My thumb glides just under her eye, catching a tear, and I nod my head in understanding.
"I read that would happen."
"You read a lot," her lips curve into a grin, small but there.
"When it concerns you, I want to be informed," I say, my fingers still on her cheek, and her eyes close, in what looks like relief and maybe even a little pleasure. She’s sweating a little bit, with moisture at her temples. "You're a little warm. Do you want a cool cloth for your head?"
Her eyes pop open, and she looks at me with surprise before she nods, and those pretty eyes flash with gratitude. I stand up and walk into the bathroom as she calls out, "Linen closet is behind the door."
When I open the closet, I chuckle softly.
The organization of her towels, sheets, and cleaning supplies is quite impressive.
Everything is labeled, neatly folded, and in its correct place.
Virgo, I think fondly and grab a white washcloth out of the labeled bin.
Running it under cool water in the sink, I return to her side, fold the cloth, and gently dab her forehead.
She sighs, "Thank you, Callum."
"Do you need anything else?"
"I... I don't feel like sleeping," Sophie says, looking a little unsure as she looks up at me. "Do you want to watch something?"
I grin and nod, honestly very relieved that this gives me some more time with her. I don't want to overstay my welcome, but more time with Sophie is always a good thing. And she seems to want me here, too.
"Can you grab my laptop?" she points to her dresser, and I grab the silver laptop and hand it to her. Slowly, she sits up against the headboard, opens it up, and types a few times before biting her bottom lip and patting the spot next to her on the bed.
We'll both be clothed, she'll be under the covers, and I won't, but this still feels incredibly intimate sitting on her bed together.
I walk around to the other side of the bed and toe off my boots before gingerly sitting down next to her.
I take my phone out of my back pocket and place it on the end table next to my side.
The bed groans a bit at my size, and I adjust the pillow for my back, leaning against the headboard like Sophie. She doesn't seem to notice, preoccupied with adjusting the laptop near the foot of the bed, so we can both see the screen.
Hitting play, she leans back and looks up at me, "If you don't want to watch this, we can find something else. This is just a comfort movie of mine..."
I'm curious now, and it only takes me a moment to recognize what movie she put on.
And I'm beyond thrilled.
"It's okay?" she asks, and I nod my head, smiling widely. This breaks the hesitant expression on her face, and she smiles right back at me.
"More than okay, it's perfect," I reply, feeling my heart thump a little faster in my chest. "And I'm counting this as our first movie night—even though it's still technically day. Still counts."
Sophie just keeps smiling before turning back to the movie. It takes me a second longer to tear my eyes from her happy face.
"One way or another, though, every human being is unique, for better or for worse..."
◆◆◆
Sophie falls asleep fast.
One minute, she was laughing at Mr. and Mrs. Wormwood as they tried to wrestle his glued hat off his head, and the next, her head was gently hitting my shoulder.
I was concerned for a brief moment when I looked over, worried something was wrong, but then I saw her eyes closed, lashes fanned against her cheeks, her entire expression slack with peace.
Asleep, the deep kind of sleep, the kind that only comes when you finally feel safe and can let go.
And if that didn't make me feel good, that she's finally settled and feels safe with me.
Surely, she'd be more comfortable lying down instead of leaning on my shoulder, but I find that I can't move. I'm being selfish, I know that, but... her warmth is soaking into my side, and her breath is a soft rhythm I can feel against my arm.
So, instead, I just watch her. Her nose twitches slightly in her sleep, the tiniest little crinkle between her brows appearing for a moment, like she's confused in her dream. Then it fades, and a small, sleepy smile tugs at the corner of her lips, barely there, but real enough to make me smile.
She sleeps just like Plot—those little facial twitches, like her dreams are playing out across her face, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
She's so damn adorable it makes my chest ache.
The movie fades into the background because all I can focus on is the woman beside me.
A couple of minutes later, I hear a buzz, and I see my phone light up with a text. When I grab it, I see that it’s from my mom.
Mom: Everything OK?
She's not feeling well.
I’m gonna stay
make sure she's alright.
Mom: Take care of our little dove
Send me her address.
I'll order food for you both.
I reply with my thanks and send Sophie's address, then text Tonya an update on Sophie, but she must be tattooing because she doesn't respond right away.
Putting the phone back on the table, the movement must disturb Sophie, because I feel her shift slightly against me.
Sure enough, her lashes flutter as she blinks her eyes open slowly, like she's trying to remember where she is.
My breath catches when she looks up at me, and a radiant, sleepy smile curves across her pretty lips.
"Hi," she whispers, voice scratchy with sleep. "You stayed."
"Of course I did," I grin at her and nod toward the movie still playing on the laptop. "Missed a bit of the movie though, want me to rewind?"
"Sorry. Totally ruined our movie day,” she croaks, rubbing the rest of the sleep from her eyes.
"Don't worry about it. You needed to rest."
But then she blinks again and seems to register the position we're in—her still curled into my side. Her expression shifts, the smile falling away as she sits up with sudden awareness.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry—did I drool on you?" she asks, a cute blush on her cheeks as she ducks her head, refusing to meet my eyes. Instead, she inspects my shirt with a look of horror, searching for any damp spots.
"No drool," I laugh, and it makes her face relax. I reach out because I'm apparently past the point of no return and tilt her chin up with my fingers, making her meet my eyes and see the smile on my face. "Wouldn't really care if you did, to be honest."
"Okay, good," she sighs.
She stretches her arms over her head and lets out a soft groan, cracking her back with a sound of relief.
Her sweatshirt rides up slightly, revealing a narrow sliver of smooth, pale skin just above the waistband of her leggings.
I look away pointedly, giving her the moment to gather herself, and myself a second to breathe, then rise from the bed, trying to brush off the images that attempt to infiltrate my brain.
That one text slips through, about her being in the bath, and I remember how I had to put my phone down for a minute. Pretty sure my brain rebooted, and the images that came from that text I had no business thinking about. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a nice picture in my brain, though.
When I step to her side of the bed, I offer my hands as she moves to stand. She accepts without hesitation, and I keep my grip on her arms, steadying her as she gets her bearings.
"You feel okay?" I ask, my voice soft, fingers still resting lightly on her elbows.
"Yeah, I'm fine now,” she looks a little embarrassed. “It's just... all hit me at once. I'm sor-"
"Don't," I gently cut her off, my voice still firm and brokering no arguments. "Don't apologize. You needed help, I gave it."
She looks at me, blue-green eyes focused and searching. I don't know what she finds, but her face softens, and she nods, a small smile on her face. She opens her mouth to say something before a knock at the door interrupts her.
"Mom ordered food for us," I explain at her confused frown.
"Your mom is an angel," Sophie sighs in relief, patting her stomach. "I'm going to get dressed, do you need money for th—"
"Nope," I'm already stepping back, so she doesn't even try to hand me money to pay for the food. She rolls her eyes at me, a grin on her face as she heads into the bathroom, and I head to the door to grab our food, the smile not leaving my own face.
Thirty minutes later, we're stuffed with chicken noodle soup and bread, sitting on Sophie's couch. We're continuing to watch Matilda because Sophie was determined not to ruin our first movie night. Now we can actually call it movie night, the sky is darkening outside.
My arm rests against the back of the couch, and Sophie slots herself right next to me, not cuddling fully, but she fits right in the crook of my arm.
If I were braver, I'd drop my arm down and pull her in close to me, cuddle her to my chest, bury my nose in her hair, and just inhale that scent of Sophie, of comfort.
And for a moment, I let my mind whisper that she would let me, that she would cuddle into me too.
We’re both under her thick orange blanket.
She had changed into loose black pants and her old college hoodie, the hood pulled up once more to cover her head.
I wasn't going to say anything. I would never do anything to make her feel ashamed, even by pointing out that she didn't have to hide her hair from me.
I've already seen her hair loss, and she's still Sophie.
But, she has her reasons, so I leave it be. Her comfort is always my number one priority.
When the credits roll, neither of us moves right away, and I glance over to Sophie, who looks pensive while nibbling on her lower lip. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.