XVI/XXX. Thanks

"Thanks for letting me stay in here." I said to his chest, my fingers curled on top of his chest.

My head on his chest, hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat and smelling the lovely manly musk of his neck. I traced the lines of his neck, feeling the veins throbbed lulling me to sleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically.

"Where? This low-ceiling building?" he chuckled. His chest rumbled.

I shook my head.

"Where then?" he asked. One of his hands sneaked to my hair and played with them, twirling and tugging them.

"Here." I said, pointing at his chest.

"My arms?" he asked.

"No, your heart."