"Fuck-." I melted in his arms, unable to look into his hazed, tantalising hazel eyes. Being in his proximity was like being hunted, by an unforgiving and powerful beast.
He pressed his rough, strong hand against my mouth, gently clasping my lips shu...
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montel fish - hotel
LESS THAN A WEEK later,I was in the comfort of my suite researching my symptoms through the book that my childhood friend, Oakley had gotten for me.
I skimmed through the pages, running my finger along the lines of several diagnosis's. The tip of my finger grazed the smooth paper over the advanced print. Unable to categorise what specific type of cardiovascular condition or illness I was experiencing, I felt myself being pushed closer and closer towards booking an appointment with a medical professional.
Initially, the moment I got back from the cruise, I was going to make a call to a nearby doctor's office. But the bubbling fear in my heart paralysed me. Holding me against doing anything of the sort. I'd spent the last few nights with floating thoughts of complications and this daunting uncertainty. I never wanted to meet a man like him again.
A shallow breath left my lips. I ran my fingers through my straightened hair, contemplating of getting into bed for the night. I ruffled my hair and flipped through the pages, hoping for a match.
I shut the book abruptly, out of sheer frustration. This was far beyond my ability. I cursed under a shallow breath, rubbing my temples to ease the tension.
Just make it.
Those very words played crossed my mind, amidst my troublesome worries. Just make the appointment. Face your fears, and make it. Something could be seriously wrong with me.
Hesitantly, I looked over to my nightstand, where sat my idle MacBook. A little research on some doctors in my area couldn't hurt.
I shifted back into my bed, the warm, cozy sheets moved ever so slightly with each gentle tug. Lifting my leg slightly, I reached over to the laptop next to my warming nightlight. I placed the cold unused laptop onto my lap, and lifted the screen. Reluctantly, I powered it on, waiting anxiously to surf the net.
I typed my password in, and opened Safari.
"Shit." I mumbled, as the internet buffered. There was a long pause, my eyes unconsciously followed the rotating loading sign.
I sat in silence as I waited for my laptop to respond, my thighs began to warm as the device gained energy.
"Finally."
A connection, finally. My fingers drifted across the keyboard slowly, the sound of typing in a forced relaxation replaced the silent nature of the room.
