Spoon

At the crack of dawn, Angela groaned as she fluttered her eyes open. She was laying on her side facing left, and the first thing she saw was the light by the bathroom. It seemed as if the electricity was back on, but the light above the bed was still turned off. The rain had stopped but the wind was still howling outside.

Feeling warm on her back, she lazily dragged her gaze and noticed an arm around her waist. She widened her eyes, confirming that it was a man's arm and her hand rested on top of it. To add to her surprise, her head wasn't resting on a pillow but on a man's arm. With her heart racing, she swallowed and carefully turned her head to the right. She didn't have to see to know who was next to her—obviously, there was no one else. But she still had to check although she already knew it was him.

When her gaze landed on Gael's face just a couple of inches away from hers, the beating of her already racing heart became even faster. How did they even end up spooning? She clearly remembered going back to sleep hours ago and there was still a good amount of space between them. Whatever happened earlier, she did not know. Did Gael pull her to him? Or did she force herself to his embrace? Not knowing what to do, she turned away and remained still.

Little did she know, the moment that she had turned her head towards him, she had woken him up. But just like before, he kept his eyes closed, thinking that playing clueless was the only thing he could do at the moment. He was fast to realize the state they were in and just like Angela, he had no idea how they ended up in a compromising position.

'Stay. Don't go,' he said in his thoughts. Because he was too proud to say it out loud.

He wondered what she would do, knowing that she was aware of what she had woken up to. Would she pull away? Or worse—push him? Or maybe she would stay. 'What are you going to do, Angel?'

When Angela didn't move after a minute, he thought that she had gone back to sleep and probably decided to ignore whatever this was. Shifting a little, his arm tightened around her waist and her back was pressed against his chest even more. Then he felt her stiffen before she slowly relaxed.

Angela had been debating with herself. She certainly didn't 'not' like it, but she knew that this shouldn't be happening between them. 'We can't. I can't. I shouldn't,' she reminded herself. 'Doesn't he have a girlfriend?' She felt terrible. She didn't want to become a third party! But she couldn't move. It just felt so comfortable being the little spoon to the big spoon named Gael. How long had it been since she actually enjoyed being in someone's arms? Was there even a time when she did? She couldn't remember.

The best part of it was that despite how intimate they seemed to be at the moment, there wasn't anything sexual about it. It was only purely cuddling. Nothing more. And it felt so damn good that she wished it didn't have to end.

Angela decided to stay for five minutes, fooling herself that if she gave in for just that much, she would be able to brush off the strange lingering feeling within her—whatever it was. Maybe this would get out of her system once she had her fill. Five minutes was enough. It should be.

She closed her eyes and mentally counted jumbled numbers as she didn't exactly want to count down. And when she thought that it was already five minutes later, she reluctantly pulled away, careful not to alert him. After grabbing her stuff, she headed out the door without turning back.

As soon as the door closed, Gael opened his eyes, finding the spot next to him empty—well, nearly empty as his hoodie laid where Angela was supposed to be.

…

Around noon, Angela had ticked off all the items on her to-do list. After coming back to her suite at dawn, she had gotten back to all of the texts from her brother, her father, her best friend, and a bunch of other people that she hadn't replied since yesterday—including Francis. It turned out that he had seen her last night at the restaurant, but he didn't come by since she was with Gael the entire time.

Apart from her social duties, she had also done some work. After God knows how long it had taken her, she had finally written a decent first chapter of her new book. A total of around three thousand words. It was still a draft but compared to her old ones, she was actually quite happy with this one this time.

She didn't know what came over her, but when she opened her laptop and started typing, everything just started to flow so naturally as though she had been recharged.

Her Tuesday morning was productive and by lunchtime, she no longer had anything to do. Getting up from the chair, she stretched her limbs, and her mind drifted to Gael all of a sudden. She wondered what he was doing at this time. Should she have woken him up when she left? Maybe even left a note? She did nothing of the sort.

Feeling guilty, she thought about what he had done for her yesterday and she contemplated. Angela chewed on her bottom lip, then she clapped her hands once as if she was giving herself some courage. Grabbing her wallet and phone, she headed out of her suite and a strong wind greeted her immediately, making her shiver.

Angela stood in front of Gael's door and rang his doorbell. She waited for a few beats but he didn't answer. Maybe he was out? She tried ringing the doorbell again and was starting to feel silly that she was waiting for him.

Just as she thought of turning around, the door swung open and, lo and behold, a topless man with nothing but a white fluffy towel wrapped around his waist appeared. His wet hair dropped small beads of water down his shoulders that trickled past his chest… and then his abs, settling just around the knot of the towel where very fine wisps of hair peeked out.

"What do you want?" he asked.

She blinked and swiftly shot her gaze to his face as she straightened her back. "You—You… Why would you answer the door without covering yourself? Do you always do this? What if it was a staff or a… I don't know, someone?" She cleared her throat. Maybe some woman? Why the heck was she stuttering?

His biceps grew bigger when he crossed his arms over his sculpted chest. Leaning against the door frame, Gael cocked a brow at her. "I knew it was you. I saw you through the peephole."

Angela knitted her brows together, a crease forming on her forehead. He knew, yet he still didn't bother covering himself?

"Are you just gonna continue ogling there or do you actually need something?" he questioned, his face devoid of any expression that she could read.

"I'm not ogling!" She turned away and stared at the pretty metal door hinge.

Clearing her throat, she decided to just tell him outright. "I… I'm hungry. I'm going to eat lunch at the restaurant, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind going with me?"