So warm.

A tiny groan escaped my lips as I fervently pryed my crusted eyes open, wincing slightly as the seemingly intense morning rays burned my already blurred vision.

Morning.

Time to roll out of bed, grab some coffee and my briefcase before rushing out into the peak hour morning traffic.

What fun.

I just can't understand how those people get up at the crack of dawn just to go for a morning jog in the park. I guess I just lack the willpower. Either that or I don't have the philosophy of wasting precious snoozing hours in exchange for a supposedly healthier lifestyle.

After all, getting enough sleep is one of the health benefits, right?

I snuggled closer into the soft material, revelling in the warmth.

What the heck, ten more minutes wouldn't kill.

Rolling over, I was jolted awake when I fell onto the floor with a reverberating thud.

Ouch.

I think I cracked my skull.

Wait, this wasn't my bed and certainly wasn't my floor either. Nor was it the lumpy couch I had in my office.

I found the excuse to force my eyes open and immediately clambered up from my undignified position. For some reason, I expected to find myself in my car stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Let's see, sofa, television, dining table, bookshelf...

Nope, this wasn't my car.

Though I sure wish it was.

"Good morning, finally awake I see," the familiar baritone prodded me to lift my head in acknowledgement. The elegant leader of the Turks was up and refreshed, casually buttoning his shirt. My gaze immediately fell on his subtly exposed chest.

Tseng?

Not my apartment, not my car, in somebody's apartment...

Equals in Tseng's apartment. Bingo.

I was suddenly aware that I still sported my sodden set of clothes, which was now freezing cold and cemented happily to my being. A reasonably thick blanket lay as a heap at the edge of the sofa, making me pity Tseng who had obviously taken the pain to cloak it upon me as soon as I had nodded off.

"Work?" I mumbled questioningly as he donned his trademark navy blazer. "My gosh, I'm going to be late."

"It's Sunday, but I have to complete an assignment in Wutai. So don't worry," he explained briefly. "I asked Rude to retrieve your car and breakfast's on the table."

"You didn't have to," I responded automatically with the polite tone I had grown accustomed to. I transiently debated whether to crawl over to the breakfast table or remain where I was. I decided against the latter. Besides, I had adapted to the fact that I always acted like a fool in front of him.

"I know I didn't have to. I did it because I wanted to," he countered quietly, hand on the polished doorknob. I think he looked up just in time to see me jab my spoon into the grapefruit slice and grimacing as the faithfully defiant jet of juice stung my eye as well as gracing my clothing with a new addition of splatters.

I probably looked like I just crawled out from a drain.

"I laid out a set of clothes for you in my room. Just remember to lock up when you leave," he added with a bemused expression before sidling out, closing the door with a slight click.

Maybe I should just keep these on.

Finally get a chance to promote my 'new line of fashion' and wouldn't even have to borrow Tseng's clothes.

Right...

Excuses, excuses.

I think I've heard them all.

My car broke down. My wife had a baby. My car had a baby...

Glancing down at the grapefruit slice, slightly burnt toast and a cup of thick, black coffee, I unconsciously dwelled on the fact how he knew this was in fact my idea of a favourite breakfast.

How the hell did he know?

Or maybe it was just coincidence. After such events yesterday, I don't think I would ever not accuse fate anymore.

I had to get out of these clothes.

Pushing the chair aside, I dragged myself to his room, half-lowered eyelids trailing on the tiled floor. If I walked into a room looking like this, I think the mice would be jumping up to the chairs instead.

A pair of neatly pressed navy trousers and a loose white shirt was laid neatly on his blue quilt.

Blue. How conventional.

At least it wasn't brown with some god-knows-what patterns on it, like mine. Every time I looked at the pathetic quilt of mine, I felt as though a moldy old buffalo has crawled into my room and died there.

Bargain shopping, no good.

Remind me to get a new one when the next paycheck arrives.

Slipping off my shirt, I reached for the two-sizes-too-big white shirt, realizing that it could readily pass for a complete attire, considering now much fabric Scarlet usually wears.

I was just in the process of doing the first button when someone stepped in, startling me.

"My god, sorry," a voice hastily apologized as he noted that I was, putting it lewdly, half-naked. Grasping the collar of the shirt together, I swerved.

"I just forgot my car keys," Tseng explained shortly, seemingly wrenching his gaze off me. "Could you hand it over? It's by the bed."

Keys, keys....

I groped the polished mahogany table, finally settling on the bunch of keys. Plodding over, I carelessly tossed it over to him.

"Here."

"Thanks," he turned, suddenly halting before swiveling back. "Sir, Reeve, I-"

His sentence was cut short when he noticed that he was hovering inches from me. I froze, lips parted slightly in subtle astonishment.

Kiss me, my subconscious screamed.

He neared me, warm breath caressing my yearning lips, but as soon as his sable eyes riveted on mine, I chickened out. Stumbling backwards, I fell against the wall for support.

"God-" I exclaimed softly.

Tseng turned away abruptly. "I better get going," he mumbled awkwardly, slightly slumped shoulders betraying his true emotions as he strode out of the apartment.

I slumped against the wall, too stunned to do anything but finger the still-undone buttons on my shirt.

I couldn't... love him, could I?

But somehow, I didn't believe my own words.

Maybe.

Just maybe, I could.