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EIGHT. the train runs off its tracks
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McKenna started killing at a young age and she knew that's why she didn't like to sleep alone. She always had a fear of someone breaking into her home to someone trying to hurt her. But she had no worries that morning. She felt safe and serene. Like she wasn't on a different planet.
When she woke up, Five wasn't there, but his side of the bed was dented. McKenna ran her hand along the pillow and comforter. Her lips still tingled from the night before. She touched them and smiled. She sat her, her wild hair falling around her, and she looked around her brightly lit room.
She heard light footsteps and turned her head. Five appeared and stood by the doorframe when he saw that she was awake. He was taken away by her beauty and he wondered how someone could be so beautiful when they've just woken up. "Hi." He spoke first.
McKenna smiled again. "Hi."
"I tried not to wake up."
"Oh, that's okay." She replied and stretched her muscles. She leaned back on her arm and smiled at him again, his eyes still on her. "What?"
Five shook his head. "Nothing. You're just. . . You're so beautiful."
Her cheeks reddened and her smile grew wider. "Last night—"
"Was perfect." He finished and walked into her room. He sat on the bed with her. Five pushed her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. "When do you leave for your mission?"
"A couple hours." She said quietly.
"What do you want to do till then?"
She brought her hand up and wrapped it around his wrist. "Can you we just stay here?" She basically whispered. She wanted nothing more.
Five smiled and shifted on the bed. McKenna moved as well and he slid under the covers. She smiled and laid her head on his bare chest. She swirled her fingers on his skin. "I feel like I'm dreaming when I'm with you." She whispered again.
