[complete; editing, ROUGH draft]
"Say something in Spanish."
I snorted, "Like what?"
"I don't know... I just want to hear you speak it."
Our gaze stayed on each other for more than it should've. But I couldn't look away. Her hair laid out behind her...
Chapter song: Say You Won't Let Go by James Authur
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August POV
I haven't slept.
The entire fucking night.
And the reason why is scrapping the line of pathetic.
An hour or so after Oakley and I said Goodnight, she shifted in her sleep.
She shuffled closer to me and laid on my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist and a leg between mine. Slowly I had laid my arm around her, placing it on her hip.
For nearly the entire night I stayed up, feeling the beat of her heart on my skin, and her soft breast pressing against my chest. It drove me insane.
And I watched her sleep because this is the closest I've been to the love of my life in two weeks. And I don't know if I'll ever get the opportunity again.
Loving her is the only thing I'm good at in this fucked world.
The dim moonlight from the small oval-shaped window beside our shared bed casts across her face. My mind wanders to my parents as I watch Oakley snore softly on my chest. I can't wait till I can put a bullet through Mathew. He cost me the one thing I want in life.
I lifted my hand to stroke Oakleys cheek.
He cost me her.
Suddenly, Oakley begins to shift; I stiffen under her, guarantee she's going to wake up anytime soon because I couldn't keep my hands to myself. But a whimper leaves her throat, her eyes shutting tighter.
"No, please no!" She mutters in a cry. "Stop the car!"
Fuck, not again.
I immediately recognize the state of distress. A nightmare. I sit up in a sitting position as her head toss side to side, muttering words I can't decipher.
"Oakley," I call out quietly, not wanting the others to wake up. My heart beats rapidly for her, wanting to end whatever suffering her mind and self-consciousness are putting her through.
I cup her face, steadying her head, and shake it gently as she begins to cry in her sleep. My name barely leaves her frowned lips and my heart aches to know what is running through her head.
"Baby, please, wake up," I whisper, begging her with a shake on her shoulders.
And this time, her eyes shoot open, her shifting stops, but her chest heaves heavily up and down. Moisture covers her face and eyelashe, strand of hair stick to her damp face; I sigh in relief to know her inner suffering is over.
Oakley's eyes meet mine and I can see her shoulders and eyes soften at the sight of me. Her gaze searches my face as if forgetting the reason we're here, with my hand still cupping her cheek. Her grip on the bed sheets loosens before breaking down into more sobs, her head dipping.
