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Alena Collier is not a material girl but as usual, Gossip Girl is sparking up new labels and her labels stick. Now, as referred to the Material girl: rumors spark up, assumptions are made, and her reputation is created for good.
She previously le...
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Croaks. The croaks of toads and buzzing sounds of mosquitoes fill my ears. The air is hot and sticky, humid.
My vision is focused in front of me as I walk, my bare feet sinking into the cold mud with every step.
I stop as a faint voice lingers in the air, the croaking of toads paused. I hear the voice again, it's distant but It's audible. It's saying my name.
I stare straight ahead as the voice seems to be coming from up ahead. I then recognize the voice that calls my name, the one voice I yearned to hear from.
"Dad." The word escaping from my lips so subtly and softly.
I sit up on the bed, sweat on my forehead. Hairs sticking to my forehead, my cheeks hot and wet from tears I presume. My eyes are teary as I catch my breath, my heart slowly returning to its normal beat.
I throw the blanket covers off of my body, swinging my legs over the bed. I hop off and exit the room as I shout Nate's name. My heart still beating rapidly from the nightmare.
I enter the kitchen and see the back of Nate's figure as I reach the end. He's leaning against the table, he turns around facing me.
"I just had the most..." I trailed off as Logan came into view.
My eyes slightly widen as I stare at him from the other side of the table.
"Logan came by to talk." Nate says awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck.
Nate gives me an apologetic look with a sheepish smile. I divert my eyes to Logan who is now standing up straight, he walks around the table to the front beside Nate. His eyes studying me as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. One of his arms involuntarily held towards his chest as it's hanging from his sling. His wounds have healed but his arm is still in that process.
"Nightmare?" Logan asks, his intimidating blue eyes boring into me.
I shift in my position, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "No." I respond nonchalantly.
"Did you sweat in my shirt?" Nate asks abruptly, his eyebrows furrowed as he stares at me.
I look down at my appearance, Nate's shirt, his soft fleece long sleeve I adore so much. Shorts are hidden behind the long length of the shirt.
This may look like a situation that it's not and by the look on Logan's face, I'd say he's thinking of what didn't happen.
