Love of a Hunter | Complete| Unedited

31 : That Night

Savvy's POV

Am I floating?

Everything is shiny and stars are everywhere. When I opened my eyes, nothing is visible except blurs. My surrounding is dancing, teasing me.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Multiple time. But nothing changed. Now, It is white at first then turns blur, with no signs of normality. Closing my eyes, darkness welcomed me. Which is better? Black or white?

“Get out.” I heard his order but j couldn't react. My feet refuse to follow my command. What the hell? Am I paralyse too?

“Savannah?” He called again. I could differentiate his emotion. He is running out of his patience. Even I am too. I am the most impatient person in the world right now. I want to get away from him, others, everyone. They all suck.

I hate people. I hate the world's population.

I could feel my body vibrating. What is happening?

I don't know.

“Stop... This drama.” Again, he demanded. His annoyance is audible. I am a bad person, who hurts everyone.

“Would you stop this?” He yelled this time. But nothing happening. I could still feel myself vibrating. My eyelids are heavy. I couldn't open them. I am going to die.

“You are wasted.” He scolded.

And now, I hear a voice. High-pitched voice. Where this is coming from?

“Stop crying.” I heard his soothing voice. “How many glasses you consumed?” He asked.

“I don't know,” I whined realizing that I was crying all this time. It is not my fault that I couldn't understand my surrounding.

“Why did you drink?” Sighing, he asked. The disappointment was obvious. Even I am disappointed too, but I was too bored.

“I wanted to celebrate the Matthews wedding.” Responding, I see the person. The person beside me has chiselled biceps. Those veins on hands are the centre of attraction. And these brow hands would look amazing around a waist. They deserved to be placed on a waist, not on the steer.

“Hunter?” I quizzed.

“Stop moving.” He instructed and made me sit. “Settle down, let me help you.” With a stern voice, Hunter proceeds to open my seat belt, but my focus was on his hands.

“Hunter?” I called again, and he hummed as a response, focusing on his work since I refuse to give him space. “Your hands are....” Touching his arms, I finally got his attention. “Masculine.” I finished.

“What is the definition of masculinity?” He sounded entertained, looks interested in me.

“I don't know.” I was still lost in his hum. It was echoing in my memory. “How you would sound when you would moan because of me?” Asking, I caressed his arms.

“Ms Rogers... You are drunk.” He was concerned. “Let's get you home... So that I can go to my home.” His offer was genuine, but my interest was not his offer. I preferred to explore his hands, chest, body. He built a good body.

Pushing him away from me, “You were lean, once upon a time.” I smirked.

“Yes, I used to kick-box. ONCE UPON A TIME.” Saying, he runs his fingers on his black hair. Now, the sight in front of me is inviting. I couldn't deny the demand of the butterfly in my stomach.