He rolls to my side with a lazy smile, and I want to freeze time – to keep that expression on his face.
But his arm moves up, brushing sweat from his forehead before resting on his pillow, and he licks his lips.
My head is swimming, alcohol and exertion and sheer confusion slowing my reactions. I feel my chest burn and wonder if that last tequila was a good idea.
His eyes are impenetrable when he rolls to his side, propping on his elbow. He kisses me once and whispers, "Go to sleep."
The words are brusque, the tone kind.
No comments:
Post a Comment