She was the girl who was afraid of love. Terrified of it. It isn't permanent, she believed, it leaves you and it leaves you broken.
He was the boy who desperately needed it. Love--the only thing that could've rooted him to this world.
Ophelia and...
“such aching mystery hides, in your stardust–glimmer eyes.”
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I didn't really sleep properly that night.
It might've had something to do with that alcohol, or my head which had been crammed full with sad thoughts when I finally gave in to the exhaustion.
I kept on waking up during the night. Half conscious, I'd pull away a little, only finding darkness around me. It wasn't that it was really cold in the room, but it wasn't warm either. I'd shiver slightly and then curl up back against Alastair, drifting to a not-so-easy sleep.
I didn't think Alastair slept properly either. Whenever he'd feel me moving a little, he'd just tighten his arm around me, pulling me back to sleep with his soft lips just below my hairline.
I was right about that when I woke up again--near morning this time--and he had his hand in my hair, softly playing with it as I slept. I didn't move for a while, not really wanting to pull away from him.
This warm feeling with waking up next to him was something that I wanted to get used to. I was at peace and I could remember no other day when I had woken up feeling this peaceful, especially so early in the morning.
Few more minutes passed by while both of us remained silent, awake. I didn't think he knew I was awake, not until a yawn left my lips, making me fidget a little as I rubbed my eyes.
God, the wave of exhaustion that I had felt last night, I thought, it felt like I hadn't slept for years.
Maybe it had just been my brain shutting down after all that extreme overthinking.
"You didn't sleep well," Alastair said. His voice was laced with sleep, which made his accent more prominent.
"Did you?" I looked up at him, in his lazy grey eyes.
He just shrugged in response.
I sighed and brought back my hands up to my face, rubbing my eyes again, while leaning my forehead against his chest.
"I'm sorry for last night," I whispered, feeling a little at guilt. "You didn't sleep because of me."
He was silent for a while. I had a feeling that he agreed with that last statement, all until he replied with, "You're really good at making assumptions."
He sounded like he was smiling and when I glanced up at him, there was a tired smile on his lips. "And you apologize a lot too."
I grimaced. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." Then I grimaced again.
He stared at me for a very long time, the tiny adoring smile still on his lips.
"We'll work on that." He said, before placing a kiss on the top of my head, pulling me closer once again.
