: f l u f f : d u m p :

She pulled the blankets closer to her body as she exhaled slowly; her soft, warm breath contrasting greatly with the cold air that enclosed her.  Part of her wanted to raise herself to her feet and close the window- the winter air was leaking into her bedroom- but another part of her wanted to remain where she was. She feared that if she moved he would be gone when she returned to her bed. She shivered lightly and felt his arms pull her tighter to his body.

His warm arms were wrapped around her small waist, just below her chest.  She could feel his warm breath brushing against her neck slightly, her cheeks pinkening along with every breath he emitted. He legs curved and bent along with hers.  A few years ago she would have dreamed of this situation; it would be one of her girlish day dreams. She had always wanted to be with him- romantically, of course- but during the past few months she never thought she'd be able to get to the point where he would hold her in his arms and not have a trace of doubt in his mind.

She pulled down the corners of her night gown subtly. She didn't want to send him any subliminal messages. He shifted lightly, moving his hands along her meekly and her nightgown bunched itself up anyways. She shuffled her legs and felt him encase her more, trapping her in his  hold on her... but she knew that she didn't want to get away. Because as much as she disliked him at some points, she knew that he was laced dangerously around her heart. She could never just stop loving him. It just wasn't possible. She had been addicted since the age of eight.

She wanted to say his name, to ask why she had awakened to him spooning her, but she also knew that if she had asked too many questions he would get flustered and run off and she's be back to square one. She rationalized that if she just let him have his way then maybe he'd explain himself later.  Sure, it was wishful thinking, but Amy had learned a long time ago that this boy that made her so moonstruck was never one for stopping for questions. She had scared him off enough times for three lifetimes.

He yawned in her ear lightly as he leaned onto her more, unaware of the pressure building up in her face.  She felt her face explode with heat and she pulled her cotton blanket farther above her face to hide her obvious blush. Of course he already knew that she liked him- a lot, at that- but she didn't need him to be turned off from her even more because she was blushing. He had ran when she had proposed marriage when she was 12 and he was 15, why wouldn't he run now that she was blushing?

She blinked rapidly as he snuggled his head into the back of her neck. She heard him take in a wiff of her hair and let out a subtle giggle. He moved his hands to her arms and rolled her over so that she was facing him. Their chests were pushed together and their noses were inches (barely) apart. She could feel him breathing through his nose upon her lips. They curled in giddy anticipation. She parted them to try and attempt to speak but no words came out.

He gave her that grin that made her feel so crazy inside and she nearly lost her cool. She nearly pounced on him, pinned him down so he couldn't escape and planted a kiss right on his lips... but managed to keep herself calm...ish. She did giggle and smile like a school girl, though. He laughed a bit and moved his hand from her mid-back to her face and pushed the stubborn tuff of hair out of her eyes.

She blinked a few times before finally being able to form words out of the movements of her lips. He saw her mouth shape around his name. He loved the way her lips curled around his name. Something about the way she did it was so different then the way other people- even girls- did it. Maybe because she had been shouting his name for years; she had perfected the skill.  

She closed her mouth, finally accepting the fact that she was unable to speak at the moment.  She gave him a soft smile and fluttered her eyes gracefully. His hand traced from the top of her head to her cheeks and along the side of her neck, before resting it back on her lower back. "Morning!" He said with a cheery, hushed voice. Part of him didn't want to break the sereneness of the moment that encased them.

She giggled in response, seemingly relieved that Sonic had taken to starting the conversation. There was no way she would have been able to say anything. first. "Good morning." She said sweetly. Her voice danced upon the words independently, filling the hollow silence that had closed around them nicely.

"I was just in the neighbor hood, and..." He trailed off. How was he supposed to explain to her why he had suddenly appeared in her bed? Not only that, but how was he supposed to explain holding her so romantically? It wasn't like him to so openly express feelings for her.

-----

He watched her pull her small legs closer to her body. Her eyelids fluttered over her dazzling green eyes as her long eyelashes batted against her soft cheeks. He saw her finally rest her trembling body, easing it from the cold that enclosed around her. She let a warm breath escape her shivering rosy lips and he couldn't help but stare at her. How was it possible for her to be at such ease at a time like this? Didn't she feel as anxious and restless as he did? What had this "Dexter" guy, if he really was real-- which he seriously doubted, because why would she ever love anybody but him?-- done to Amy? She used to be so full of life, full of spunk, full of energy... at least, whenever he was around. It was like someone lit a fire in her eyes whenever he showed up.

Was it possible that she didn't have any feelings for him anymore...?

Right.

Like that would ever happen.

He figured that was why he was feeling so drawn to her. He felt himself more attached, these days... now that she was dating someone. She was still Amy Rose; she still giggled the same and smiled the same as she always had. The only difference was that he knew that she was giving another man those smiles and those giggles and those looks with those big green eyes that he loved so much. Didn't she knew that those looks were reserved for him and him only? He was the hero and she was the heroine (and occasional damsel).

He also figured that's why he found himself crawling over to her. It wasn't often that he allowed himself to get close to her. To be honest, she brought out a side in him that even he himself didn't know existed. When she was around he found himself to act softer, sweeter... shyer. It wasn't like him... it scared him to know that she was the only one who possessed the ability to pull out this side of him.

He wrapped his arms around her. Instantly, her eyes shot open. She stared at him and he felt himself push forward onto her. He needed confirmation. He craved for her to tell him that she had just made Dexter up to make him jealous... because, honestly, he thought it was working. He was thinking about her more often then he usually did. He needed to know that she still loved him... he needed to know that she still looked up to him and trusted him with her heart even though he had broken it more times then he could count... much too many then he should have.

She gasped his name but he pressed his finger against her soft lips and she instantly silenced. He scooped her up into his arms. He forgot how much he loved holding her; her lissome hands carved against his neck, her lithe arms rested around his shoulders. Her head pressed against his chest firmly.  Her entire body felt sylphlike. He felt the wind smash against his face and run through his quills. The all-too familiar grin smeared across his muzzle and his hands curved around her protectively. He almost forgot the rush he received when he held her in his arms and ran.

He brought her out to the woods. He didn't want anybody to see him and her together; Knuckles would surely tease him, and Rouge would never let Amy live it down-- the two were constantly at each other's necks about the whole 'Dexter' situation. Rouge found it okay to flirt with him (playfully, he hoped) now that Amy was dating someone.

He let her down once he knew that they were far enough away from everyone else. She collected herself and promptly planted her hands on her thin hips and pouted at him. Her small lip plucked out and he couldn't help but stifle a chuckle. She was cute with everything she did.

"So?" She asked.

"So... what?" He countered, the airy grin poking her in the side vaguely.

She sighed in annoyance and threw her hands down. "Why are you being all touchy-feely all of a sudden?" She asked meekly, her jade eyes narrowing at him. "I have a boyfriend, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Ames, you and I both know that Dexter isn't real. You made him up."

"You don't think I could get a boyfriend!" She exclaimed, her eyes enflaming with passion and he knew that he was either in for a world of hurt or a tackle-hug.  "You think I'm incapable of dating anyone but you."

"Well, history repeats itself, you know." He said with that cocky grin that made her want to smack him in the face and kiss him at the same time.

And, if just to prove his point, he snaked his arm around her tiny waist and pulled her close to him-- so close that their chests were pushed together so firmly that not even a piece of paper could slide through. Her lips curled into a smile as they betrayed her. He grinned at her again; his deed had been done, his point had been proven. He could read her so well.

"Let me go." She said softly, even though he knew that she didn't mean it. "I can't do this."

"Just admit you made him up and I'll let you go." He bargained.

Maybe something had changed over the time that he had been gone. Even thought she was clearly blushing, clearly feeling something a little more then friendship, she was still resisting. She someone managed to find the will to push away from him. Her hands fought up to his shoulders and she she pushed away. "Sonic, I can't do this. I have a boyfriend."

"No you don't!" He gasped at her. She jumped and stumbled backwards, out of his grasp.