ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
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It's very difficult to have murderous thoughts when I glance over and see Maya peacefully sleeping like an angel with my leather jacket pulled up to her cheek like it's a fuzzy blanket.
I've been parked in her driveway for over ten minutes now. My headlights are shining on her front porch, and I've tried nearly everything to wake her. Whispering her name, turning the music up a little bit, hoping she'll move so I can play it off like I didn't intentionally pull her out of her slumber.
When we were in Zayn's bedroom, it didn't take long for her to fall asleep in my arms. Truthfully, I thought she was just coming down from whatever got her so upset. But when her hands slipped from the back of my neck and her body became limp I realized she passed out.
I had no idea what I was walking into. I called the house three times to check up on her while I was at the shop, and every single time he answered, Zayn told me she was fine. She was dancing, talking to Rizzo, and eventually fell asleep around midnight.
I wasn't going to leave, but when I saw she was distracted with Riz and the drink in her hand, I figured it'd be a good time to get the car looked at. Especially with me driving her home, I don't want her in any danger. Besides that, if I stayed any longer I probably would've had a drink. And if I did that, I wouldn't be able to get her home.
All my self-control's been drained. I had to get out and remove myself from the situation. I wouldn't have left if I didn't know for a fact she was in good hands though.
"Maya." I speak in a normal tone, her body still, as she hums quietly under her tired breath. "It's time to go in, do you think you can walk again?"
She doesn't make another noise this time. She just nudges her head further into the jacket as her head rests against the door, her eyelashes barely fluttering before they go still again as she falls back asleep.
I didn't want to touch her without her being awake. I was so shocked when she lunged in my arms earlier, I didn't even hug her back right away. She threw me off. Especially because I've seen the way she's reacted to my touch like I've burned her with my skin. The last thing I want is for her to wake up and panic while I'm carrying her.
Right now though, I don't seem to have any other option. I'm not leaving her in the car. She can't be comfortable and it's getting cold out here—so I turn the car off, tossing the keys on the seat beside me, I swing my door open and climb out of my seat.
