𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀.ᐟ 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀

why do the holidays always hurt?

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chapter forty-four: why do the holidays always hurt?

{a/n:
puuhleassee don't be a silent reader!! commenting and voting are greatly appreciated. enjoy :)}

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ADAM BANKS WAKES UP to an arm draped along his chest and a legs over his. He feels the body beside him breathing lightly, clinging onto his side with such need it makes his stomach do flips.

As the events that took place earlier that morning resurface in his mind, the blonde finds himself with a reminiscent simper as his eyes flutter open.

For once in his life, he wakes up feeling refreshed and excited to take on what the day brings, even if that includes another screaming fit from his abhorrent father.

The blonde's gaze wanders to the girl who has attached herself onto him in the midst of her dreams, and his smile grows even bigger.

So much for the pillow barrier.

As if it's the most natural thing, he tilts his head down and presses a very light kiss on her temple. It might just be a glisten of his imagination, but he swears he feels her lean into his touch.

Adam allows his head to rest back on the pillow for a moment. He lays there, everything in him softening as he admires her. The way her eyelashes are fanned out above her rosy cheeks, her lips parted ever so slightly as shallow breaths escape past them.

He can't help but reach out a hand, his fingers gently gliding through the downiness of her dark hair.

Is this what people mean when they say they're on cloud nine?

It takes the entirety of his mind to finally detach himself from her, the warmth of her body morosely melting away. Once he is out from the bed and stretching, he notices how tightly compressed her tank top is against her figure from the position she is in. Allowing himself to guiltily take a peak at her perky chest, his gaze is drawn then to the delineation of her veins that protrude from underneath the fabric.

"So pretty," Comes a silent mumble.

Then, Adam walks to his bathroom and shuts the door as quietly as he can.

     Several minutes later, Vera awakens when Adam's about done with his shower. She hears the water turn off and she sits up, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her fingers. It takes the brunette a second to emerge from the morning daze, feeling slightly groggy as she yawns and glances around her surroundings.

One thing she didn't catch from the night before was that his room was clean and neatly organized, some attributes most teenage boys lack. The walls are either painted a very faint cream color -- almost white, giving the room a fresh and airy feel. In the corner on the other side of the room, there's a desk with a computer. There's also a stack of books, maybe some sports biographies or magazines.

Her exploration falters short when the bathroom doorknob twists open, and Adam walks out in only a towel, his hand securing the front so it doesn't fall.

The blonde had thought she still would've been asleep by the time he was done.

Turns out, he was wrong. "Oh shit,"