Mirrored Exile (HS)

thirty eight

chapter thirty eight - i like her

Harry Edwards

They say you can't start a fire without a spark. I'd always thought that was a stupid metaphor, but looking at her now, lying next to me in the dark, I realized it was the complete opposite. She was the spark, and every time she was near me, every time she spoke or even just breathed, it felt like my whole world was about to ignite. My head was on its way to exploding and spreading like wildfire. Even though I knew it was dangerous, I couldn't bring myself to push her away.

She was wearing a black sweater and blue jeans that were a bit faded and hugged her thighs. Earlier on, when the joint touched her lips, all I could think about was the fact that the joint had also touched my lips. With her blonde hair falling over her eyes so perfectly, I was a complete fool. She talked about Greece so invitingly, in other words, I just wanted to pick her up and fly her there. I was captivated by the aura she radiated. Being partly drunk did not affect my head when I stepped in front of her to take that bullet, and that's the part that was stuck with me as well.

I know it definitely affected the way she felt. The whole evening she had carried that look of guilt on her face. I tried to distract her and tell her it was okay, but rightfully so, she would still feel the same. I took one last glance at her before my eyes fell heavy, adjusting my arms so they were rested gently by her side and out of her way in case she turned over. The lamp from the corner mildly lit up her face with its soft orange bulb. Even though she was cold, her body had warmed up in my arms. It was the same warmth I had felt in front of the fire that night with her. The sparks that lit up her silhouette as she lay beside me.

I took one final look at her. I didn't want to sleep. Not when she's right here. I would prefer to remain conscious and awake the entire time to savor this moment.

Fuck, I was a lost cause when it came to this girl. There was no denying it now.

— —

I jolted awake, disoriented, and groggy. Blinking a few times, I tried to clear my vision. The warmth of her body was missing from my chest. I noticed this as soon as I got a sense of where I was. As I slowly opened my eyes, the bright hospital light glared into them. I stretched out my arms, wishing she was still in my arms. My shoulder ached a little, but it was a bearable pain today.

"Morning." She smiled at me from the chair in the corner. The one that looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Morning," I replied, my voice hoarse from sleep. I sat up slowly, taking in my surroundings. The hospital room felt cold and sterile again.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Better, I want to get out of here now."

She laughed, "You just woke up."

"I need to book our flight to California today." I got up quickly and reached for my phone.

Four missed calls from Agent Folan and two missed calls from Zayn. Jesus.

"Far out, slow down," she cautioned, her voice soft. "We have time."

"I have to do it now or we could get tracked." I panicked, flicking through numerous flights. I was in search of ones that weren't listed by the FBI so we could go undercover.

"What time?" She got up from her seat and sat at the edge of my hospital bed. I looked at the digital clock on the table beside me. 8 am.

"About 12." I shrugged.