𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 - a medicine for sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.
With two brothers, she has always lived in the same house. And always, they had the same neighbors. The same boy with wh...
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Thomas looks better than yesterday. Way better.
The dark circles have faded after this night of real rest. He won't be energetic today, I can already sense that, but it'll do.
I woke up around thirty past seven. My biological clock just says 'no' every time I try to sleep in. Thomas is in fact still asleep. It's ten AM.
I don't feel like getting up yet. After scrolling through my phone a bit and glancing around his unchanged room, I find myself watching him as he sleeps. It's a little weird, yet I can't help it.
He's just so... I don't know, nice to look at. He's lying on his back, head tilted to the side a bit. We forgot to move the curtains, so the sun is shining straight into the room. It casts a glowy look that illuminates onto him.
It shows off his silhouette. The sunlight highlights the perfect curve of his nose, the hair of which a few are always matted to his forehead, and the soft parting of his lips. He's serene. Freaking perfect.
The buzz of my phone forces my eyes to rip away from him.
Maybe that's good.
Indie
Hi pooks I've canceled the appointment with my only client today. Currently at the store. What can I get for y'all? How's Thomas?
He's still asleep, but I doubt he will be for any longer. I think he'll get through the day.
That's amazing to hear. You won't mind keeping him some company, will you? Will work better than me.
Yeah, I don't mind Btw, doesn't really matter what you get. Something we like
Croissants will do. Orange juice?
Sounds great. See you in a minute!
I look at Thomas again. He has began to shift. The sun is currently right in his face. I'll close the curtains before he loses any sleep.
The bed squeaks as I get up. I cringe, cast a look at him, then tiptoe over to the window. Some dust lands in my nose when the material moves. A cough escapes from me before I shake my head. When was the last time he cleaned his window?
Quietly, I make my way downstairs. Grab a duster from below the sink. Walk back upstairs.
"Morning."
Instinctively, I hurl the duster towards the voice. It sails through the air, striking him in the chest.
"Woah." More surprised than hurt, he looks down at the duster.
