Chapter Text
My body was completely cramped beneath the weight of Yakob’s body. He was lying on top of me, his arms wrapped around my waist in an embrace that bordered on possessive. His face rested near my neck, and I could feel his warm breath against my skin, slow and steady, as if the whole world didn’t exist beyond that moment.
I tried to ignore the discomfort, but my muscles were starting to protest. My chest hurt, my legs were going numb, and every second that passed made it harder to stay in the same position. Carefully, I shifted a little, trying to get comfortable without waking him.
It didn’t work.
The moment I moved, Yakob reacted almost on reflex, pulling me closer against his body, tightening his embrace as if he were afraid I might slip away.
I sighed quietly.
“Yakob…” I murmured, trying to wake him gently.
There was no response. His breathing remained just as deep, just as calm. I tried moving again, this time with more determination. I twisted my torso slightly, attempting to free myself from his hold. After a few seconds of effort, I managed to loosen his grip enough to turn over and settle into a more comfortable position.
I had barely finished turning around when I felt movement behind me.
“Hey… why are you turning away?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
Before I could answer, he wrapped his arms around me again, settling in behind me and pulling me back into his embrace.
“My chest hurt… and my legs… and everything else,” I replied with a faint groan.
“Mmmm…” he murmured, still half-asleep.
His hands began to move slowly from my waist to my stomach. I tensed a little, surprised by the gesture, but he continued, apparently not thinking much about it. He lifted my shirt slightly and slid his hands beneath the fabric.
His fingers were cold.
The contrast against my warm skin made me shiver. I felt the hair on my arms stand on end as his touch moved slowly across my stomach, almost curiously. Then he began to gently squeeze my belly, as if checking something, as if memorizing the feeling.
His hands kept moving upward to my chest. My breathing grew uneven. I knew perfectly well that I didn’t have a slim body; the softness of the fat on my torso had always been something I tried to ignore.
“I like your body so much…” he murmured against my back.
I felt heat rise to my ears.
“Don’t say that… I’m not that attractive,” I replied, trying to sound casual, though my voice came out softer than I expected.
“It’s soft… it helps me relax,” he answered with a naturalness that left me speechless.
Silence lingered between us. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to react. No one had ever spoken about my body that way before. Not as a joke. Not as something that needed to change.
Just… like that.
Carefully, I took his wrist and moved his hand away.
“Better… let’s just go to sleep,” I said, trying to sound firm.
Yakob didn’t protest. He only moved closer, pressing his chest against my back, resting his face in the hollow between my neck and shoulder. His breathing became slow and calm again, as if he were already drifting back to sleep.
I, on the other hand, stayed awake.
I could feel his warmth, the comforting weight of his embrace, and the words he had said kept repeating in my head. I felt strange… embarrassed… but there was something else too, something warm that tightened in my chest in a way that didn’t hurt.
No one had ever told me something like that.
I slowly closed my eyes, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in my stomach as his embrace grew firmer, more protective.