26 October 2007 - Morning

[amber_v]

Amber slept soundly. The previous night had taken its toll on her, what with all the physical activity from the sex marathon and, perhaps even more draining, the unexpected emotional intensity she'd felt for Eric. It'd been a lot to take in, and in so brief a period. But she slept better than she had since before she could remember, smooth and tranquil like a night sky in the wilderness.

Her alarm clock’s strident buzzing struck her from sleep and, fuzzy on everything, including her own name, Amber groped in the darkness to grab the noise and shut it up. A warm, large barrier got in her way and she had to sit up, thinking with all her might about where she was and what was happening. She was Amber. This was her bed. The thing she was pressing buttons on was her alarm clock.

And, her expression softening as she remembered, this person next to her was Eric, the guy she’d taken home, on a whim, and fucked. And liked. How strange it was to reflect on last night, with the distance of a few hours’ worth of sleep. It seemed so far away, like it’d all happened to someone else; it certainly didn’t seem like something she’d do. The one-night stand part was more than usual for her, but waking up the next morning caring about the stranger in her bed, that was new. Weird. But nice, too. Much better than the annoyance she normally felt, the same one that made her kick her partners out of her apartment as soon as she could.

Her alarm clock read 6:31. Amber clicked a few more buttons before sliding back down over Eric and giving him a light good-morning kiss. His breath stank, as did hers, but she couldn’t care less. “Woke up yet?” she teased. “My alarm clock will go off in nine minutes, and then I’ll have to go get ready for work. Until then—“ She kissed him again, licking his lips this time. She was too tired be horny, but there couldn’t possibly be a better way to start the day than with a bit of kissing and fondling.

Comments

[amber_v]

"Sure," Amber said, nodding to the pad and paper next to her kitchen phone. She then glanced at the microwave clock: time was up, she had to be out the door. "I get off work at five, but I'll need to come back here and change. And clean up." She glanced behind her shoulder to beyond the kitchen. She'd left her clothes all over the living room, not to mention the unchanged bed sheets. While not happy about abandoning the mess, it'd have to wait. "Pick me up here at six." They’d gone in separate cars last night, but that was because they hadn’t known what to expect from each after five minutes’ conversation. …They hadn’t talked much more since then, but now they had more to go on, and Amber was certain they’d leave Shank’s together.

“Okay, this is it, I gotta go.” Stepping right up to Eric, she held his face between her hands; his breath smelled of the breakfast they’d just had. Amber smiled grand and wide, like she’d just been announced the winner of a contest. “I had a great—no, a fantastic time. And I can’t wait to see you again.” Slowly she brought her face to his, brushing their lips at first, then kissing him lightly. It wasn’t true that she couldn’t wait—if that were the case, she wouldn’t be heading out—but it almost was.

A few seconds of very, very pleasant kissing, and then it was time. “I’ll see you later.” Amber strode to the living room, her heels clacking against the wood panels, to get her keys and wallet.

[eric_foreman]

Foreman scribbled his numbers on the pad of paper Amber offered. She was already in a whirlwind, grabbing her things and starting for the door. Foreman followed her, pulling on his suit jacket--hopelessly wrinkled--and his overcoat, pulling them on. "I'll be here," he promised. If he was picking her up, and if her plans to clean meant anything, then he might want to be a bit more prepared this evening. He'd bring a change of clothes, something casual enough for a weekend, as well as his shaving gear and deodorant; a few things that he could keep in his car, but that would be there if he spent the night again. He was pretty damn sure he'd be spending the night again. Maybe as inventively as last night. Maybe just talking, if he could steer Amber away from thinking about work. With the excuse that it was the weekend, he thought that he could ensure that they picked safe topics.

The next thing he knew, Amber was reaching for him, cupping his face. Foreman let his hands fall to Amber's waist, bringing her close for a moment as they kissed. "Me too," he said. He wanted to tell her to blow House off if he started making stupid demands, but it wasn't worth the fight. Not yet. "You're amazing." The compliment dropped from his lips easily, but it was true, and Foreman smiled, stepping back so that Amber didn't have to take it too seriously if she wanted to keep things light.

He followed her to the front door, and then headed for his own car. He sat behind the wheel for a moment, taking a moment to simply breathe and realize that he'd stumbled into something--hell, if the word fit, he'd use it--amazing. Chuckling to himself, Foreman started his car and headed for home. He only hoped he could manage to keep this together long enough for Amber to forgive his lie.