Eunoia (Greek):
A pure and well-balanced mind, a good spirit. Beautiful thinking.
Harmony Ivy Reed - a nineteen year old girl in her second year of college, tackling college life by storm as she strives to stay on top at one of the most prestigious...
"Oh, I wonder, did emotions fade with the summer? Like an ocean wave, took me under."
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- H A R M O N Y - I V Y - R E E D -
When I woke up during the middle of the night from an unpleasant dream, I frowned when I didn't see Bastian next to me before my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me and his head in his hands, his figure hunched over as if he was tormented by something.
I knew something wasn't right, I knew it the moment he walked into the room yesterday and held me in his arms, or when he made love to me last night... It wasn't him.
This wasn't the man I had fallen for, and it was eating away at me.
"Bastian?" I called out to him, sitting up and pulling the sheets up to cover my bare body before reaching for his discarded button down and sliding it over my body, I quickly buttoned a few buttons.
I crawled over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder when he flinched, making me frown as he looked back and relaxed when he saw it was me.
"What's wrong?" I whispered, sliding my hand down his bare back and feeling his muscles tense under my touch but he simply shook his head.
I moved to sit beside him on my knees and wrapped my arms around his muscular frame when he sighed, relaxing into my touch.
"Tell me what's wrong, Bastian." I whispered before pressing a few kisses to his shoulder when he looked at me, his eyes searching mine before he leaned forward and kissed me, taking me by surprise.
I pulled away in confusion, watching his closed eyes and traced my hand over his sharp jaw.
"I'm worried about you." I told him when he opened his eyes to look at me, the edges softening considerably.
"Don't be, little kitten, I'm alright. I just couldn't sleep." He told me but I knew he was lying, and that upset me more than anything when I climbed into his lap and straddled him, framing his face in my hands.
"Are we okay?" I asked, chewing nervously on my lip when he smiled softly and nodded, holding my wrists in his firm grip.
"We're more than okay, baby." He kissed my forehead, making me relax a little but the nagging feeling was still there—like something was terribly wrong.
Prevaricate, I recalled, to avoid giving a direct answer or deviating from the truth. This was exactly what he was doing now and I hated it more than anything.
"Why did you wake up?" He asked after a few quiet moments when I shrugged and looked away from his piercing, brumous eyes.
"Bad dream." I mumbled and saw his eyes soften the longer he looked at me.
