ೃ⁀➷ 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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"The National Weather Service in Nashville has issued a thunderstorm warning and a tornado watch for the following counties; Van Buren County, Marion County, Cumberland County, and White County."
My eyes slowly open, listening to the staticky radio as a woman speaks through the speakers, which makes my head pound from her high-pitched stern voice. Unsure of what time it is or how long I was asleep, I look around and see the room is much darker and feels a lot colder than it did when I first walked inside.
"A severe thunderstorm capable of producing a tornado was located near Doyle, or seven miles south of Sparta, moving northeast at forty miles per hour. Flying debris will be dangerous to those caught without shelter. Mobile homes will be damaged and or destroyed. Damage to roofs, windows, and vehicles will occur. Tree damage is likely."
Widening my eyes as I feel the bed suddenly dip and a hand grip on my waist, when my body adjusts to being awake, I glance down and stare at Harry. With my hand somehow tangled in the back of his hair, his cheek presses into his pillow, and his forehead leans against mine.
When I finally notice I'm clinging onto him like a koala, I glance over and see my leg draped over his hip bone. His arm is wrapped around my waist with his fingertips moving around on my back, and his other arm is snaked under the pillow my head's resting on.
I stare at his face intently, watching his eyes just barely flutter. But as silence overwhelms the room, he changes his position—moving his lips around in his sleep before they pinch together, he hums to himself and pulls me closer by my back. He then rocks my head up with the top of his, buries his head in the crook of my neck, and drags his hand up and down the fabric of my shirt.
The hug I mysteriously found myself in becomes a little tighter as he slips his arm out from underneath the pillow, and now pulls me closer with both of his hands wrapped around my waist; so tight he's acting as if he's holding on for dear life like if he lets go, he'll somehow drop me.
I remember being tired but I don't exactly have any recollection of when I fell asleep. Was he awake longer than I was? I don't understand how we ended up like this. Someone would have had to have positioned me this way and I don't recall making that move—I try to pull away from him but widen my eyes when I realize just how strong he is.
Between his legs tangled with mine, his hands locked around my waist, and his head forcing mine up so he can sleep closer to my chest; I am trapped with half of his weight placed on top of my body.
I try my hardest not to squirm as he breathes out against my neck, his lips parted as they press against my skin, while he quietly snores every few seconds.
