When I knock on the door, it's Missy who answers it.
Her eyes widen when she sees me. Immediately, there are lines of concern burrowing into her forehead but she smiles hesitantly. I slump against the door frame and press my head against the wood. And then of course, like any sane human would, I begin to bang my head against it.
"Are you done?" she asks finally, bemused by my theatrics
"It hurts," I reply quietly
That spurs her into action. Her hands fall on the lower left of my abdomen feeling for the bullet wound, running her fingers gently along the area. I shake my head and take her hands.
"Not there," I mutter, putting them on my chest. "Here. To the left,"
She frowns and presses her palm over my heart. Then a startled epiphany dawns on her that she refuses to share with me.
"Oh, finally." She says
YOU ARE READING
Growing Up and Other Tall Tales
RomansaSometimes the best love stories begin with, "Who the fuck are you?" *** Lyra Donovan has been through enough hell and then some; so she enjoys the more predictable things in life. A good cup of coffee, sunsets and the fact that she hates math. Love...
