TWENTY-EIGHT
"Are you okay?" Miran wrapped his hands around her, she lay in his arms.
"Yeah," Kim replied a bit tired, her eyes closed slowly.
"Do you want me to take you home or..."
"No, I want to sleep over," she draped her hand over his chest and laid her head on him.
"Okay," Miran breathed. "Good morning."
***
The next morning, Kim showered and took a white polo out of his closet. She prepared a cup of coffee for herself. She gathered the available ingredients to cook.
"There you are," Miran entered the kitchen. He had just shorts on. Kim glanced at his abs, she swallowed, imagining her tongue against them.
"Looking for me?" She says, humming a song.
"Yeah, you're in my kitchen," he kissed her forehead, heading for the fridge.
"I am." she chuckles.
"I'm speechless. You're in MY kitchen. In MY clothes, it's so crazy." he placed his hand on her waist, enjoying the movement of her waist as she was moving to the song she hummed.