I gently run my fingers over his sleeve until he grasps my hand and I blush.
I can't believe he's here. In MY apartment.
Then I remember. My parents pay for this apartment. How on earth am I going to be able to keep him here for three days without my parents coming over to check on me?
'Phil?" I murmur almost silently, grasping for the courage I don't possess.
And yet, he still hears me as if he's waiting for every sound I make, as if my words are water and he's been in the desert for days. He drinks up every decibel.
"Yes, love?" he responds.
"Where are you staying while you're in town?" I ask , still barely audible.
Again, he drinks up every drop of my voice.
"Here, I thought. Unless you have something else in mind?" he smiles and runs his free hand through my hair.
"Of course you can stay here," I stutter, unable to tell him no.
He's mesmerizing, but he may cost me everything I've ever known.
I think I'm okay with that.
