The Next Morning (lock, please)

Without looking at the clock, Drev threw the sheets off and swung his feet onto the floor. If he looked at the clock, he knew his body would try to make him crawl back in bed. His muscles were still stiff and sore, but he felt rested. He'd been so exhaust last night, that he managed to drift off to sleep shortly after he felt Wren's breathing grow deep and slow. Probably about one o'clock or so he must have passed out. He finally did look at the clock - it read 10:38 - and stretched his arms high above his head. His muscles cried out in protest, but he assured them that it was for their own good.

He stood up and stretched his legs. They offered the same protest. He realized then that he was still naked. They'd fallen into bed naked. Interesting.

He threw on a pair of plain black pants he wore to practice Blades, then shuffled into the bathroom, answered nature's call, and went into the kitchen to rustle up some breakfast. As the frozen waffles turned lazily in the microwave, Drev's mind drifted back to the night before. He was a little surprised - but glad - to find that he felt no regret for what happened. He didn't think it would adversely affect their relationship. They were mature enough to put that night behind them, if they so chose, but he'd be open to casual sex, if that's what Wren wanted. That'd be her call to make, though.

"You're wearing your heart on your sleeve again, Drev." He knew the voice was his own, but what did it mean? It's not like he was falling for Wren. She's just a sexy ex-stripper that he felt the need to help. She'd had a hard life, and he had the means to give her a new, better life. So why shouldn't he? Sex wasn't what he wanted from her - at least it wasn't his main goal. He just wanted to see her happy.

[COLOR=RoyalBlue]"But why should you care? She's just some girl."[/COLOR] That voice hadn't been his own, but he couldn't ignore it. It raised a good point. Why should he care about what happened to her? Bushido and his own sense of honor demanded that he help her. She'd come into his life, either by accident or by some twist of fate, and now he felt it to be his responsibility to help ensure her happiness. And besides, what did it hurt him? His condo was certainly big enough for two people, and it didn't compromise his finances.

The beep of the microwave brought him out of his reverie. He sat down to eat his waffles in relative mental peace and quiet. There wasn't much he could do right now, so he'd just let thing go as they're going, and if things needed changing, he'd cross those bridges when he got to them.

Once the waffles were safely tucked in his belly, Drev went into his studio, and within minutes, was happily lost in the forms of his blade work.