✓ [18+] EVERY LITTLE THING

V I . B E A U T I F U L

EVERY LITTLE THING
Copyright © 2020 by MischiefMaidenX

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A/N: It's finally the weekend which means, new chapter posted! Thank you for your patience lovelies and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I know it's from Sarah's POV and we only got a brief chapter from Adam but I promise more is to come of our dear Adam's deepest thoughts and desires.

Steven Kelly/Adam Michaelson muscle appreciation above (hubba hubba/drool)

Speaking of Adam, what do you think of him so far?

I'm not going to lie, he comes in second of my favorite MMC to write in this series. First of course being Nate.

Also, I'm curious to what you guys assume happened between him and Sarah thirteen years ago. I promise that the chapter will come to explain it in full detail. Thinking more of a flashback Adam POV. I can't wait for you to be able to read it once it's eventually posted.

With that, enjoy this chapter (spoiler but I promise you'll like—hot moment ahead) and your weekend. <3

Remember to vote and comment. Helps me out tremendously. I'm not ashamed to admit I want to feel the love ;)

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V I . B E A U T I F U L

S A R A H

Huxley runs along side me as we venture the trail that outlines the perimeter of Clinton Hills. With my Air Pods in, I let the thumping bass, drums, and charismatic strums of a guitar fill my ears of Five Finger Death Punch's Bad Company.

Fitting isn't it?

Since I'm sure I'm bad company to be around. At least in the last few months. No one wants to be around a depressed widow who is still deeply mourning her late husband.

Using the music to my advantage, I push my body past its limits as I pick up speed. Huxley keeps up with me no problem and before I know it, we're nearly sprinting through the underpass that runs beneath the main highway that leads in and out of our small town.

When I make it out of the tunnel, the sunrise catches my attention, making me falter in my stride for just a second.

Damn that's beautiful.

I admire it some more as I push further up the trail until we come to the stream that leads to Clinton Hills Lake.

Leaning over, I unclasp Huxley's leash so that he can freely run around the area and intertwine my fingers as I push on the back of my head with my palms. I take in deep breaths through my nose, closing my eyes and blow the air I've accumulated out through my pursed lips.

I do this for a few more minutes before a cold nose brushes against my bare thigh. I still have my eyes closed and assume it's only Huxley greeting me so I lower one hand to rub the top of his head.