𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (Ash Trilogy #3) ✔️

23

Once you begin sleeping beside someone, it's hard to sleep without them. It's like you become addicted to them in a way, they become your form of melatonin. 

As I wake up beside Snow, for these few minutes, the only thing I'm able to feel is happiness. The world could be crumbling to pieces outside, with the death of all near, but I'd remain happy in bed with Snow.

Her eyes finally open, although she's been awake for a few moments now. I've been laying, pushing myself up on my elbow, and brushing my thumb against her soft cheek. 

I meet her honey eyes. The ones I'd die for. The ones I'd kill for. 

"Have you just been staring at me, creep?" she grins.

Maybe she expects something teasing back, but that's not what I do. I reply truthfully and huskily, "Yes."

Whenever I start painting, I always have a vision in mind. I have the painting completely planned out, down to the last brush stroke. But lately, whenever I try and paint, no matter what it is I have planned, the painting always turns into one of Snow. 

She takes in a deep breath and rubs her eyes. Her blonde hair is down, slightly messy from our sleep. I'm sure my black curls are a mess, but I don't care.

She looks over at the alarm clock. She has to extend her neck to do so, and it takes everything in me to resist the urge to kiss her skin.

"We should get up," she looks back at me and says, but it shows on her face and in her voice that she doesn't want to. 

We slept in later than we should've, but when you sleep with the person you care about, it's hard to wake up.

"Yea, we should," I agree, but just like her, I don't move. She smiles at this. 

I lean down and kiss her, her hand going on the back of my neck. 

I never want it to end, but she pulls away. She sighs, "We really need to get up and go now - it's a three-hour drive. I don't want it to be dark out while we're trying to look."

"Okay," I agree, yet still don't move, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while continuing to lay. She laughs at this again.

She rolls out of bed. I want to grab her and pull her back in, but I don't. I get up, too, and walk over to my closet. 

She begins changing next to me while I grab a black shirt out of my closet and pull it over my head. 

Part of me wants to tell her we can't go anymore. Lie, and say my car is having trouble and can't do the drive. But I don't. 

She and I eat something, I tell her we can't go until she does. I cook her breakfast, and I brush my teeth after eating. I peek out the window and see the sky grey from storm clouds. 

Snow is about to walk out of my dorm when I tell her, "Wait."

I grab a jacket from my closet. It's a black one, one that's small on me, but would still be big on her. I begin pulling it through her arms and tell her, "It's probably going to rain."

Once she has the jacket on, then I follow her out to my car. The second that we sit inside of it, light raindrops begin to fall from the sky.

The three-hour drive begins. Snow plays the music she likes, and I find myself looking at her more than the road. Wearing my jacket makes perfection look even better. Her plump lips are shiny from the lipgloss she put on and her silver earrings shine. I force my eyes back on the road because I'd never forgive myself if I crashed the car with her in it. 

"Still think I'm the worst partner ever?" I ask her. "I filled the console with snacks for you."

She opens it and smiles widely, looking at all of the things I put in it.