Science of Owls

what a bad drawing

Chapter 13

I didn't know what his house looked like but my imagination did the work for me.

I pictured us on his bed.

Laptop on our legs.

Our legs in the sheets.

Touching.

I think we were watching Monty Python... that didn't matter because the laptop was soon forgotten and put somewhere in the abyss.

I assumed him to be warm. Or maybe that was just me sweating about it in my sleep.

He moved so that his head could rest on mine... his lips were soft on my forehead.

I moved down, falling into the depths of the sheets. I was probably squirming in real life.

He followed and moved over me, suddenly ... less clothed.

Not that that was an issue. Obviously.

He was pleasing to the eye, and to the imaginary touch.

I pulled his shoulders down, dark hair tickled my face. He smiled and went for my neck.

My hand pulled back his hair a little, so it wasn't so tickly.

His eyes made me melt, quite literally, I was feeling this new nervous feeling in my stomach.

His teeth grazed my neck and I laughed, he whispered in my ear something i'm not even sure he would say in real life, and I hope he doesn't.

He kissed my nose and –

I sneezed and woke up.

In a cold sweat. With a brilliant idea for a drawing.

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only short but... too bad i guess. 

i dont like writing like that .