Chapter 43: Penny
The first thing that drifts into my mind when I wake up is the heavy, deep quiet
not the normal kind of stillness that comes with early mornings, but the thick, weighted ki
that feels red after chans hat finally worn full out.
for a moment, I just lie there, the warmth of the blanket cocoming me and the faint memory of the storm brushing against the edge of my thoughts.
I try to piece it together
the roar of the wind, the bright white flash of lightning slicing act happening.
my ceiling, the way panic
had taken me hostage before I even realized it was
1 stretch slightly, shifting under the blanket and that’s when I feel it.
Something heavy, something hot, pressing against my waist
1 Mink fully awake, glance down – and freeze.
A hand.
A big one, rough–looking, veins standing out, fingers long and relaxed, resting low across my waist like it belongs there.
The kind of hand that could crush or protect with equal ease.
I follow the line of his arm up, my heart thudding louder with every inch.
He will sitting on the couch, exactly where I la
–
I last saw him, but now slouched slightly, head tipped forward, chin resting against his closed fist, fast asleep.
How he can sleep like that cramped in an uncomfortable position, barely supported is beyond me, but even as the thought crosses my mind, a pang shoots through my chest, sharp and aching
He’s probably used to it
Used to sleeping sitting up, used to not sleeping at all, used to being uncomfortable, used to hard fours and cold nights and everything else he doesn’t say but wears like a second skin.
For a long, still moment, I let myself look at him,
Really look.
Even in sleep, there’s nothing soft about Asher Hayes.
The scar carved down the side of his neck disappears beneath the wum collar of his shirt, a violent, allent reminder of things he never talks about.
A smaller scar cuts across the edge of his left eyebrow, giving him a permanent, faintly dangerous edge that no amount of sleep can east.
His jaw is dusted with stubble now, rough and dark the sharp angles of his cheekbones thrown into even harsher relief by the faint light creeping in through the certains.
His hair is a little messy, damp strands falling forward onto his forehead, softening him just slightly, betraying the fact that under all that steel, he’s still
just… human.
I take in the rise and fall of his chest, the flex of made even in rest, the way the shit clings to the breadth of his shoulders, hinting at the strength be usually keeps contained in tightly
It’s stupid, but sitting here, watching him like this, he doesn’t seem real
1/4
Chapter 43: Penny
Not compared to everything ||
Tyler is handsome
the ball, in eyes warm ammmah in dreien in, the Dish of Lough that make
Breathtaking
Like standing at the edge of a chill chooing a storm and realizing you’re not afraid to fall
you’re afraid of how badh you want to
The thought him through me, hot and fast, and 19 (still grappling with it when a
“Staring’s rude, you know. “
1 seck back a little, cheeks flaming, eyes
wide
voice rumbles low armes the ips
His head hasn’t moved, his eyes are still closed, but the smirk curling across his mouth is unmistakable.
anything, heart hammering
1 scramble for something to say, any
“How do you do that?
He doesn’t answer.
Just shifts slightly, the smirk deepening like he’s enjoying the fact that he’s short–circuited my entire brain without even trying
I push myself upright, clutching the blanket tighter around my shoulders, and feel his hand slide off my waist, slow and lingering Ske even gravity’s reluctant to let go.
I stretch my arms u
my arms up high over my head, groaning softly as the tension pulls from my
muscles, the hem of his t-shirt riding up my thigh dangerously high.
I don’t even realize what I’m doing until I glance over and catch Asher’s eyes
open now, beavy–lidded and dark, watching every movement like it costs him something not in reach out
Flustered, I stretch my legs too, pointing my toes automatically like I’m back at the bane, only to feel a prickle of self–consciousness when I catch him frowning.
t, a small crease forming between his brows.
His gardrops to my feet, lingering, a
“What happened to your feet?” he asks, volor saspier than before.
look duen, heat crawling up the back of my neck.
The bruises and cas patches stand out something close to perfect,
d uut vividly against my pale i
brutal souvenirs of years spent farcling my body tu bend and break and rebuild itself into
I tuck my feet under me quickly, wishing the coach would swallow me whole.
Chapter 43: Penny
That’s just what ballet feet look like,” I mumble, trying for casual
He doesn’t say anything for a second – just states – and then möcht mee, sliner and deliberate, like he i cataleging the information withed jadas
The weight of his gaze settles heavy errt me, and for a second, all I can feel it the feet that fe
really saw me
and didn’t flinch…
I pull the blanket tighter, heart pounding for reasons I don’t
n’t want tu name, and glance down at my
by distract myself.
No missed calls
Nothing from Ty
Tyle
The ache that flares in my chest is sharp and stupid, and I crush it down before it can spread.
Of course he didn’t text.
Of course.
The sound of footsteps overhead pulls me Eroes my spiraling thoughts, and I glance up as Mr. and Mrs. Hayes appear at the top of the sta
They look impossibly put–together for people who survived a hurricane last night
Mrs. Hayes in jeans and a sweater, hair pulled back neatly, Mr. Hayes already hallway
y into his jacket.
The second they see me, Mrs. Hayes beams, coming toward me with her arms wide open.
“There she is!” she says brightly, wrapping me in a war, mon–scented hug before I can even think to move.
I let her fold me against her, the blanket and all, breathing in the comfort without question
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asks, pulling back just enough to study my face.
I smile, small but real
“Good,” I say. “Beally good. Thank you so much.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Hayes says, clapping me lightly on the shoulder. “We’re just glad you’re safe. ”
Mes
Hayes smooths my hair back like she’s been doing it all my life, her touch gentle, familiar.
“We have to stop put for a bit,” she says. “But we’ll see you tonight for dinner, okay?”
I nod, a lump catching in my throat that has nothing to do with the storm of the night before.
“Okay,” I manage
Mrs. Hayes kiss the top of my head like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and with a feriore similes and reassurances, they disappear out the door. leaving the house feeling strangely bigger and dubeter without thems
enos Navy brother
