Chapter 11

Wrenley's POV

"Hello there," I say to break the few seconds of silence that followed after him zipping up the door. I'm now realizing just how small these tents are. Definitely not enough for three people, there's hardly enough for two.

He looks at me with a small taunting smile, "Hello... You know we've been with each other the whole day, right?"

"It's called being polite Matteo, goodness", I sputter out.

Then I look down and realize I'm still in my jeans and a t shirt. This is not going to work to sleep in. "Can you leave for a moment so that I can change," I ask with no room for argument.

I won't lie, that part of me is asking with hope of finding a way to 'accidentally' lock the tent from the inside. At the very least, getting changed will give me some time to myself and allow me to get into the right mindset.

He stares me up and down, jaw ticking as he says, "Sure." Why does it always feel like there is so much more that the man is not saying?

As he makes his way back out of the tent, I look through my bag to find something that automatically brings a smile to my face. Let's just say I may or may not be a huge fan of a certain famous criminal psychology show. And an even a larger fan of the shows doctor, who has not one, but three phd's. I'm looking down at a shirt that says "Future Mrs. Spencer Reid", with pants that have the FBI logo. The pants make me feel like a special agent and the shirt makes me happy for other reasons.

See this is the mindset I need to be in. Fun pajamas, comfy sleeping bag, this is just a sleepover.

I quickly change into them, then go to unzip the door and let Matteo back in. He follows after me, and I'm about to get into my sleeping bag when I hear a little growl. I didn't know we had a wolf in here. "Who is Spencer Reid," he asks with a casual voice, that doesn't seem casual at all.

I gasp, because he did not just ask who this man is. What sort of sad life has he been living? "First of all it's Doctor," I correct.

"What," he grounds out, stepping closer into my space.

I sigh, he must really not know anything, "It's Doctor Spencer Reid, you left that part out. Honestly, I don't think he would like to be addressed without it."

I don't think he likes my answer. In fact, his face right now tells me he really doesn't like my answer. Aggravation is clear when he says, "I don't really care about how he would like to be addressed. I asked who he was, Wrenley. Now answer me."

He is being very demanding right now, but lucky for him, I'm going to ignore it. I'm about to introduce him to one of the best shows to ever hit the television screen.

"Matteo, are you actually telling me you've never watched Criminal Minds," I ask, already knowing the answer. I feel bad, this is honestly kind of embarrassing for him. The show is what gave me inspiration for the detective part of my supernatural-investigation show.

"What? No. What the hell does this have to do with...," he pauses for a moment, and it's seems as if a moment of realization comes across his face. His body then seems to lose a sort of tension that I didn't even realize was there. He's now a lot calmer as he asks, "This Reid guy is from a show? He's not real?"

"He's real in my heart Matteo, that's what matters. Come and sit down, we clearly have a lot to go over," I say, squatting down and patting a spot next to me. We both get into the bags, and I begin a very long and thorough explanation that Matteo surprisingly listens to every word of.

....

It's an hour later, and we've spent the entire time talking about some of the simple things we like and dislike. I honestly didn't know conversation with him could be so easy and fun. The man, though serious most of the time, has had no problem opening up about some of the more trivial things in his life.

That's how I know that his favorite food is a fudge ice cream sundae and not my guess of plain broccoli. Or how I'm apparently next to an excellent fly fisher. I've never gone fishing, but I could easily imagine the process with his excited descriptions. And I'm being genuine when I say excited. Which is very interesting, because he gave that up today to go with me into a cave.

The best part of the night though, is when he gets to some of his favorite child hood movies and we are surprised to both agree on a certain boy wizard series. That's right, the man and I actually agree on something. It's followed by some small arguments on favorite characters and preferred houses, but even those are light hearted.

"Well, maybe we can watch the movies together when we get back," I comment a little shyly.

I haven't minded spending this time with him, and I'm a little curious to know more about the guard. Like maybe why he quickly skipped over the job he works so hard at, or about his family which I didn't have the courage to ask about. Some friendly movie watching while getting to know each other, doesn't sound half bad. We'd just have to make sure no handholding was involved.

A familiar smirk grows on Matteo's face, "Hmm. Is someone eager to spend some more time together?"

Or maybe not.

"I didn't, no I'm not. No...," I start, beginning to get flustered again.

Matteo thankfully cuts off my babbling,"Because I'd love to sweetheart. I'm starting to think I'll do just about anything if you're going to be involved." He seems to say the last part to himself, but it's still loud enough that I hear.

Why in the world would he say something like that? That sentence definitely doesn't scream friendliness.

I was doing so well during that entire conversation but now the nerves are returning right back. I look at us, and at how close we're sitting next to each other, with the only light being the small camping lamp. I glance at Matteo and specifically his eyes, which seem to have a glow that's way too intimate. I'm quite scared that they're a mirror reflection of my own.

"You know, I think it's about time that I head to bed. It's getting pretty late," I tell him as I let out a fake yawn. Then before he can say anything, I quickly switch off the lamp and lay down. It's best we finish the night on a nice platonic ending, one I fear won't happen if I stay up much longer.

This man lets out a chuckle, a freaking chuckle, that sounds too darn good. "Goodnight Wren," he tells me before I hear him move to lay down as well.

"Night," I reply quietly as I try not to focus too hard on the nickname. As I'm trying to get comfortable, the sound of wind can be heard picking up outside. It can also be felt within the tent, it feels like it just dropped about 20 degrees.

Fifteen minutes later, and the wind doesn't seem to be stopping. My body is curled in on itself to try to find warmth, while I try very hard to keep my teeth from chattering. I don't want Matteo to be kept awake because I can't seem to handle the cold. I was fine the whole time we were talking, and earlier tonight when we were outside, I'll be fine until morning.

Not even a minute later, I hear rustling coming from Matteo's side, before my sleeping bag is being unzipped. Matteo gets in right behind me, my back to his chest, as he zips the sleeping bag back up. Then putting his bag on top of us for an extra layer, he puts his arm around my hip and snuggles into me. Yes, I said snuggle. It seems as if almost every part of him is curved right on to me, like he's some sort of large warm cat. What the heck is he doing?

"Umm Matteo, did you need something," I ask, trying to act like I'm not affected by being this close to him. All I can be thankful for, is that he seems to have us positioned so that a certain body part is being kept to himself at the moment.

He doesn't answer me so I try again, using a word that will hopefully get his attention, "Buddy I asked you a question, it'd be nice if you answered me." I mean it's not like he can't hear me.

"Don't call me buddy," he mumbles as he squeezes my hip. Then he makes a perfect resting spot for his face right in the curve of my neck. I'm now aware exactly of what his breath feels like, this is just great. "As for what I need. I need the sound of your shivers to stop so I can go to sleep. I need your skin to warm back up so that your small toes on my leg don't feel like ice cubes." He's silent for a moment as he looks down at my shirt, then a little quieter, he teasingly adds, "And if we're being honest, I need you to get rid of this shirt and make sure I never see it on you again."

Ignoring his first two comments, I grow offended by the last thing he said. "What? I thought you seemed interested in the show. Why would you say that," I ask, because honestly, rude.

"I am interested. How could I not be, after how happy you were to explain it? What I'm not interested in, is you referring to random men as your husband. Fictional or not," he tells me with an emotion in his voice that doesn't quite sound teasing. In fact it sounds a lot like possessiveness, and I'm not really sure where it's coming  from.

Annoyed with his assumptions that he can somehow boss me around, I start arguing, "Oh please, Matteo, you barely even know me. You don't get to..."

"Shh, it's time to go to sleep," he cuts me off as he pinches my freaking side. Did this man just shush me, because I know he did not just shush me.

"Don't shush me, that's rude," I tell him as I feel myself finally become warm.

"You're right sweetheart, I'm sorry that was rude, but lets talk about this later. With you this close, I'm not exactly thinking clearly, so it's probably best if we just sleep," he whispers lowly.

Deciding I'm not ready for a Matteo who's not thinking clearly, I silently agree to end the conversation. Besides, being warm is a lot more comfortable and I'm now feeling just how tired I am.

Ignoring the closeness to Matteo, I close my eyes and allow my mind to finally relax. Right before I drift off, I realize I haven't thanked him for the little human blanket stunt. I mean it's not like I asked him to do this, but I guess the sentiment is kind of sweet. Not wanting to be ungrateful, I mumble, "Thanks Matteo, Good night."

He answers back with, "Night Wren." Afterwards, I swear I have the feeling of a light kiss on the back of my head, but I'm not sure if it was real or the beginning of some dream. Probably just a dream.

.....

Mateo's POV

There's a nest of hair that's trying to make its way into my mouth, and an elbow that's wedged itself into my ribs. I should be filled with annoyance and tired as shite right now. So why do I feel like that was one of the best nights of sleep in my life, and that the elbow and hair don't ever have to move as long as the woman they're attached too doesn't.

I'm not going to act as if it was an inconvenience that I had to move sleeping bags and share with Wrenley. If anything, I think part of me was hoping for the opportunity to be closer to her. I mean, of course, the main reason for our position was to keep her warm, but let's just say the way I'm holding onto her right now isn't for completely selfless reasons.

Not believing I'll get any more sleep, I end up just looking over at her, trying my hardest not to move and wake her up. I sound bloody pathetic and I can't find a reason to care.

Phillip and Hannah's low voices can be heard from outside, indicating that they're awake. I should join them and get myself out of this tent, and away from the sleeping temptation next to me. Yah, I know. I don't really see me moving either.

Soon enough, she starts to shift as her breathing seems to change. I notice her head look down in the direction of where my arm is around her waist, and then she suddenly turns around in our embrace and stares at me. As soon as our eyes lock, she makes a surprised squeal at the realization that I'm awake. Wrenley's face also turns a dark shade of red, though she does look down to hide it.

"Um, good morning," she drawls quietly.

"Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep good," I ask with a bit of a teasing lilt.

She blushes, before she gains a smirk that I'm sure matches my own, "I did. In fact I seem to always sleep good in these pajamas. Must be the shirt."

My smile falters and becomes a little forced, "I thought we talked about you and that shir.."

"Shh," she holds her finger to my mouth, and I have to hold myself back from biting it. I don't think that would go over too well. "We can talk about this later, I'm going to go join Hannah and Phillip outside for breakfast," she informs while moving her finger. Wrenley then tries to get up, but she must have forgotten about my arms. They're both still wrapped around her side, keeping her close to me.

She looks back at me with less confidence than before, "Let me go Matteo."

Instead of letting her go, I move closer so that now my body is holding her down, rather than just my arm. I lean close to her face and say, "There's nothing to talk about, you won't be wearing that shirt if you want to keep it in one piece . End of discussion. I am however sorry for shushing you last night, that was disrespectful. Even though, the thing you seem to most use your voice for is arguing with me, I'm still quite fond of hearing it. I wont be shushing it again."

I then move off of her and release my arm, hoping the last part of my statement is clear. She's had quite enough of someone dismissing her, I'm not planning to do that. I also don't want to be too controlling, but for some reason, seeing another man's name on her shirt makes me want to rip it off. I'm not sure how much she would like that.

Wrenley quickly gets up, putting on a pair of shoes and grabbing one of the sleeping bags to throw around herself. All the while, she seems to be mumbling something quietly. From what I can hear, it sounds like she utters, "Stupid rude man. Who does he think he think he is? I'll wear whatever the heck I want."

"What was that sweetheart," I ask, still lying down in one of the sleeping bags.

She turns around and gives me one of dirtiest looks I've ever seen. "I don't have to listen to you Matteo, you have no say over what I do," she sniffs.

"Oh really," I counter, as I start getting up and moving closer to where she is at the door of the tent. She's right I don't, but that attitude is too hard to back away from.

Wrenley gets a nervous look in her eyes and starts unzipping the door quickly. However, as soon as she finishes, she turns around and hides that nervousness behind a fake mask. "Yes, really. And stop trying to come closer, unless you're wanting to get taken down with some of my many self defense moves. I doubt that would be good for your ego," she threatens.

I invade her personal space and get right in front of her face, "I'd love to see those moves Wrenley. Go ahead and give it your best shot."

I'm taunting her like an arsehole, and I know it's not doing me any favors. But I quite like the way she gets when she's all worked up. Her breathing gets faster, her left eye does this cute little twitch, and she clenches her hands in a fist as if she's about to lay me out.

I'm also kind of annoyed that our morning ended so suddenly. We could've spent a little more of the morning laying in the sleeping bag together, but she tried to leave as soon as possible. I guess this is just my toxic way of making it last as long as possible.

Suddenly, breaking up my thoughts, I feel a small hand grabbing onto my nose with a tight grip. I have to open my mouth to get air in, because it seems the crazy woman has plugged all the oxygen coming through my nostrils. What on earth is she doing?

Before I can wonder any further, my face is suddenly being yanked down, nose first so that we're eye to eye. I don't mind bending down to be at eye level. What I do mind, is when Ms. FBI decides to use our position to make a hard ass kick to my crotch. Fuck, that hurt.

I back away, because bloody hell. I'm supposed to be the top guard in Aurelia and this woman, who barely reaches 5 feet, somehow got the best of me. Maybe if I would have been paying attention to what she was doing, instead of being completely enamored by her proximity, I could've put a stop to it. At least, that's what I'd like to think.

When I look back at her face, there's a mix of concern that's hidden by pride. I realize that I'm kind of feeling the same way. I'm a little worried for my injured dick at the moment, but at the same time, I'm proud that she's not afraid to put someone in their place. Even if it's me.

"I'm sorry that was a lot harder than it was supposed to be," she says somewhat quietly.

I give her a small smile because honestly, she shouldn't be sorry. I was acting like an ass. "It's ok sweetheart, you told me to step back and I didn't. I kind of deserved it. In fact if any other man tries to do that to you, do the same thing and forget the apologies".

"I know but you're not any other man Matteo," I look at her a little surprised and she seems to catch herself. "That came out wrong. I just meant that I know you would never try to cause me harm, and I didn't mean to actually hurt you. Not that you were special to me for some reason," she sputters out, turning a lovely shade of red.

The smirk on my face gathers there to easily, "Right, I'm sure that's what you meant."

She glares at me annoyed, "It is." A taunting smile then grows as she remarks, "Anyways, I guess in the future I'll have to be a little more careful around you. Wouldn't want your little friend getting any more injured." She then looks down referring to exactly what she means by little friend. Her and her assumptions of little will be quite surprised one day.

Noticing she has failed to look back up, I simply reply, "With the way you keep staring at it, I think my "little friend" is going to have another problem in a second."

She quickly looks up, "Matteo that's just... I wasn't... You know what I'm going to go eat breakfast." Wrenley than quickly turns and walks out of the tent, before I see her run over to the others.

God, I never know what's going to happen with that woman. And I think I'm starting to be completely ok with it.