She doesn't drink coffee or tea. She takes orange juice and drenches her waffles in syrup.She prefers sunrises over sunset because fewer people are awake to watch them. Her favorite ones are the ones I watch with her.
She's stubborn and she pouts at me but she's also so strong and she carries more weight on her shoulders than she should.
She teases me when I want her to wear my shirts, but likes to wear them even when I don't ask.
She sleeps on the left side of the bed when she passes out before I get out of the shower, but shares the middle with me when I take her into my arms.
She doesn't flail around in her sleep, but instead curls into my side with her head on my chest, one hand tucked beneath her chin while her other rests over mine. She whispers every night that she can hear my heartbeat when she thinks I've fallen asleep.
She's a quiet sleeper, but sometimes she has nightmares. She' dreamed of a certain tan skinned, dark haired boy, with bags under his sad eyes. She'd dreamed of the night where she no longer hears my heartbeat when she lays her head on my chest. She would jolt awake, her hands fisting in my shirt as her eyes searched my groggy, half-lidded ones. She welcomed my embrace as I held her tightly and brought her back to me, keeping the nightmares at bay.
She's scared of heights, but lived in an apartment many stories off the ground in New York City, with a floor to ceiling window in the living room.
She's the only girl I have ever spent the night with and the only one I ever want to spend the night with.
She said she loves me and I wish I hadn't said the same thing.
I don't just love her. She's spring, she's fall, she's a storm, she's all of the stars, she's the moon, and she means the world to me.
Melanie Davis.
And now I'm letting her go.
***
I laid there for hours, enjoying her warmth and presence against me. Sometimes I stared at the ceiling stringing together words in my heads for the goodbyes I couldn't stick around to give . Other times I stared at her, memorizing every detail I could - the slope of her nose, the curve of her cheeks - because who knew when or if I'd ever be able to see this again.
I thought of the first time I saw her, recognizing her from the pictures Michael and I had found while we were trying to plan our break into Calum's apartment. Seeing her in person took my breath away, just like how it would if you were to have spent your entire life looking at only pictures of the Eiffel Tower and be blown away by its sheer magnificence when it stood proudly in front of you.
Her hair was damp with sweat and her cheeks were flushed from dancing. Her lipstick and eyeliner had made her seem bold and alluring, and when she dragged me away to her apartment I had temporarily lost myself in what was her, forgetting what I came there for. But when she had passed out, her features slacking, she became a person to me, rather than just someone to take from, and I couldn't leave her behind.
Following that, I had tried to keep my distance from her, but I couldn't.
Without wanting to, I started noticing all of the little things I hadn't noticed under the flashing lights of a nightclub or in the headlights of passing cars as we drove. She was softer without all of that makeup, holding a sort of tenderness that I hadn't seen in many people before. She had a faint scar below her left eyebrow and her hazel eyes held flecks of gold. She trusted Michael easily - which I understood - but she even put her life in my hands in tight situations. Even though I intended to keep her safe when our lives were in danger, I knew I didn't deserve her trust, and yet slowly she gave it to me. By the time she did though, she had already had all of me and she didn't even know.

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Deadline≫hemmings a.u
FanfictionIn which two thieves and the girl they kidnapped go on an interesting road trip with lots of guns.