This is the place I reside right now. The place I never want to leave. The birds are chirping through the open window, the breeze blowing across my uncovered skin, and there is a furnace on my back—hard and hot. I bury my face in my pillow, willing myself to stay in this state for a little while longer. I’m not ready to go back to being an adult. Not ready to go back to starving myself of what I want the most. What my soul so fucking clearly needs.

It’s exhausting. And not the good kind of exhausting I partook in last night, full of slick, sweaty bodies, hungry mouths, and needy fingers. No. This kind of exhaustion is bone deep and mentally taxing. It’s enough to drive a sane man insane.

“I was homesick for so long, but it wasn’t a place I was missing. It was you.”

His words—no, his declaration—from last night rings in my ears. Booming loud and demanding to not be ignored. As if I could. I couldn’t forget anything he said last night, even if I tried. It doesn’t leave me any less confused, though.

Last night is going to fuck with my head, I already know it. It already is. Based on his steady breathing, he’s still fast asleep. And for that, I’m fucking grateful. I’m not ready to face him. His thick, corded, tree trunk arm is wrapped around my waist, but I’m somehow able to shimmy out from under his hold.

Throwing on the pair of sweats that are discarded on my floor, sans underwear, I leave the bedroom. My pack of smokes is on the dining room table, so I grab those before heading out onto my back deck. As the smoke inflates my lungs to max capacity, my body relaxes, skin tingling. Smoking used to only be something I did when I drank, but over the last few months, it’s been happening more often. It calms my nerves, and lately, my stress levels have been through the roof.

It’s a cold morning. The chilly air kissing goosebumps all over my skin. I don’t even know what time it is, but the dew on the grass and the fresh smell in the air lets me know it’s pretty early. I take another drag, my mind spinning with thoughts of everything and nothing all at once.

The back door squeaks as it slides open. I don’t turn my head to meet his sleepy gaze, but I can feel it on me all the same. I’ve never been able to feel someone’s attention the way I do his. The weight of his presence is heavy and demanding, and I wonder if it’s like that with everyone he comes into contact with or if it’s exclusive to me and him.