20. Stare

He likes to watch her sleep, with her lashes lying delicately against her skin, her hair spilling messily down over her shoulders, her breath whispering across his cheek as he lies close by her side. He can't get enough of her when she looks like this, and he has to supress the urge to reach out and touch her. It is his morning ritual, a time to admire without consequence or teasing.

"Chandler?" she mumbles one morning without opening her eyes.

"Yes?" he answers, reaching out to stroke her hip.

"Stop staring at me."

Well, so much for that, then.


A/N: And here it is: the last one! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/subscribed this over the months. In particular, however, I would like to thank Anne Oying , Cindyy, gAnGsTa GaBbY lOvEs JoKeR, minicheddar, Veridissima and the anonymous reviewer without a name if he/she was the same person throughout for taking the time to review (continuously, in the case of Cindyy) a fair few times over the course of this story. :D

I have an idea for a longer Friends piece, but I have other fanfic commitments at the moment which prevent me from getting it done right now. I hope to start it in a few months time. :)