After setting her on the bed, Paris walked over to the dresser while she stared at him curiously, catching the remote in his hand and stepping back to her, settling down next to her seconds later.
He switched on the television, brushing off his pants while Riley climbed up to the head board and rested her back against it, watching the comedy show on channel twenty-one.
She honestly wanted to watch the news again, but she doubted that Paris would let her.
They were trying to keep her away from it.
And she knew after she almost died that Paris was right; she had to stop looking for the killer.
It would only lead to her demise.
So she watched the show for a moment, seeing the cartoon characters jump around and laugh together; this show was… American Father? Or something? It was on that comedy network that showed that other show called… Friends that she loved to watch as a kid.
She honestly wished she could feel that way again… Having a family and living happily together.
“You okay?” Paris said, catching her attention.
She parted her lips in response when she gazed up at him, and nodded.
His eyes searched her for a moment before he accepted it and stared back at the TV.
They watched the show for a little while, Riley feeling his hand move closer to hers almost instinctually, and then he pulled back when he realized it.
She gazed up at him then, curious as to what he was thinking, and she found he was still watching the show, though his eyes had something dark in them.
It was like he was stirring inside because he wanted to ask her something, but was refraining from saying it.
It also looked like it hurt him; not telling.
But Riley just lifted the sheets from under her feet and managed to pull it out from under him when he was still focusing on the TV.
But she knew he was watching her from the corner of his eye.
She scooted a little closer to him and draped the sheets over them both, looking up to see his expression.
He was still looking at the TV, but his eyes softened a little.
She hesitated when she thought up something, and gazed at him with her face reddening.
He clearly saw it but said nothing.
So she scooted a little toward him.
And rested her head on his shoulder.
He stiffened, and she expected him to say, “What are you doing?” or “Get off me,” but he didn’t.
His response was something entirely different.
He turned a little toward her and wrapped an arm around her, scooting a bit up while she smiled, easing into the mattress more.
I’m glad he didn’t push me away.
She knew he wasn’t an entirely good person; he probably murdered millions of people and such, but…
She honestly didn’t care anymore.
It didn’t matter how he was an insane driver or ran an entire team of mafia people who were most probably tasked to kill people.
Even though he was practically a crime boss…
He still had a heart.
She turned further into him and snuggled in his grip, feeling his hand gently run up and down her back.
“Here…” he whispered gently, shifting toward her while guiding her closer. “Sit a little on my lap, Riley, and rest your head on my shoulder. It’s better for your neck.”
Her heart warmed at his words when she listened, climbing onto his lap and nestling up with him.
He cared enough to know that this position was a little uncomfortable.
Thank you for not shoving me away, she thought.
She might’ve been a nervous wreak and had major trust issues, but she needed this right now.
She really did.
Paris gently stroked her hair while he gazed back up at the TV, smiling when he felt her relax into him willingly.
They lay there for a while; so long that it actually was dark outside before a different show switched on; one that wasn’t really as interesting.
Paris looked down at Riley then, and he noticed she was drifting—clearly on the verge of falling asleep.
He snapped into action then. “Here.” And lay her gently down onto the bed, pulling the covers over her calm form before staring back up at her face.
She didn’t resist one bit.
Something about his warmth… something about it made her feel so relaxed and at ease—and the fact that he smelled so good, too; like leaves and earth—it made her feel safe, in a way.
He smiled down at her, brushing some hair out of her face and her lashes fluttered.
And seconds later he opened the drawer on the bedside, taking out some kind of wet-wipe and gently ran it on her cheeks.
She groaned an annoyance, but he caught her chin gently to wipe her nose.
“You have so many dried tears on your face,” he commented while cleaning her chin. “Seriously, it’s all salt. Do you even drink water?”
She groaned again, trying to shift away but he pulled her back.
“Yeah, yeah,” he cleaned her cheeks again, “I know I’m disturbing your calm state, but I promise it’ll feel better in the morning when you don’t have these white stains all over your face.”
He went to wipe her skin with more kindness on her neck and throat, clearly trying not to scare her with the slightest push down.
He was probably afraid she’d think he was choking her or something.
Sometimes, she wondered what this man was thinking; seriously.
But he tossed the wipe in the trash bin and made it, closing the drawer seconds later.
“Paris…?” she whispered groggily before he could get up.
He gazed down at her. “Yes?”
“Can you…” she hesitated, “can you stay…?”
He blinked.
“I just don’t want to be alone,” she said almost quietly; clearly embarrassed at the question.
“Sure,” he said, lying down beside her, “sure. I’d be happy to.”
She smiled when he sat back against the headboard.
When she snuggled up with his lap, though wasn’t on it, he smiled and stroked her hair softly.
She eased into the mattress more at the gesture and then smiled lazily up at him. “Will you protect me from the monsters under the bed?”
He chuckled at her slurred voice. “Yes, yes, I will.”
Moments later while he rubbed her back, she was asleep, huddled up with his leg and breathing softly under the covers.
He stared at her for a moment, watching her curiously as she remained sleeping blissfully.
And he then decided he was going to sleep too; if anything happened, his people would find him and warn him, anyway.
So he lay down next to her and pulled her close as he draped the covers over both of them.
“Good night, Riley…” he whispered, rubbing her back.
He switched off the light and snuggled close with her, falling asleep next to her seconds later.
Seriously… if her warmth made him sleep this fast; it definitely was a drug.
