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┌──── •✧• ────┐ "What's the point of being rich if I can't go shopping whenever I want?" └──── •✧• ────┘
Henry couldn't sleep that night. For whatever reason, his mind kept replaying the thought of Valentina kissing Isaiah. He didn't understand, why was it such a big deal, he didn't have a problem when she was kissing Shawn, what was different now?
Henry internally groaned as the sunlight crept in through his window, illuminating his room. He looked at the girl next to him, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil as she slept.
Valentina lay peacefully on the bed, her features bathed in the gentle morning light. The golden rays caressed her face, casting a warm glow upon her delicate features. Her tousled hair, cascading across the pillow, framed her serene expression.
Henry couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. Valentina appeared ethereal, a vision of tranquility in the early morning hours.
As the sunlight danced upon her skin, it accentuated her youthful radiance, highlighting the curve of her cheekbones and the softness of her lips. Henry's gaze lingered on her, appreciating the delicate rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, a gentle rhythm that spoke of peace and contentment.
He found himself captivated by the subtle details that made her unique—the slight upturn of her nose, the faint freckles that adorned her cheeks, and the flutter of her long eyelashes against her skin. It was as if the morning sunlight had chosen her as its canvas, painting her with a soft, ethereal glow.
With a tender smile, Henry gently brushed a strand of hair away from Valentina's face, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber.
His smile vanished quickly, realizing what he had just done. His eyebrows furrowed. "Did I just do that?" He muttered to himself. "What was that?"
He shook his head, as if shaking the thoughts from his mind. He needed to call Charlotte. He got out of bed, careful not to wake the Martinez girl as he ran downstairs and out to the porch.
He called his friend's number hurriedly, muttering to himself before the girl picked up.
"Henry? It's eight in the morning." Charlotte spoke groggily.
"I think something's wrong with me." Henry admitted worriedly.
"What?"
"I dunno man, but I've been looking at Val a little too long, and I feel weird whenever she gets too close to me, and, and I felt weird last night whenever she told me about her almost kissing someone, and this morning, I brushedhair out of her face while she was sleeping." He explained, pacing back and forth.
