Fifty two (I)

Avery startles herself awake and feels slightly trapped for some reason.

Slowly, she starts being able to comprehend the world around her, and through her bleary eyes, she can see a massive tree trunk of an arm trapping her to the bed.

She blinks in surprise and looks at the body the arm is attached to, squinting to see the face the body is attached to.

She can't see the face; it's buried in her stomach.

She recognises the curly hair, though, and sits up in irritation, flicking the face as she looks at her phone for the time.

It's 10 am, and Avery raises her eyebrows - she slept for eleven hours.

She usually maybe gets six on a good night; she just isn't a deep sleeper.

"Wake up, you prick," she grunts, wiggling her legs to try to get him off of her.

Roman wakes up slowly, and once he makes eye contact with her, he shakes his head and puts it back down onto her stomach, closing his eyes again.

"Roman, get up," she groans, and he mumbles something under his breath.

At least he's warm,